"ANNE,  HOW  WOULD  YOU  LIKE  TO  GO  TO  FRANCE?" 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


BY 


GRACE  SARTWELL  MASON 

AUTHOR  OF  "THE  GOLDEN  HOPE,"  ETC. 


ILLUSTRATED  BT 

GRAHAM  COATES 


D.  APPLETON  &  COMPANY 

NEW  YORK  LONDON 

1919 


COPYRIGHT,   1919,   BY 

D.  APPLETON  AND  COMPANY 

Copyright,  1919,  by 

THE   CROWKLL    PUBLISHING   CO. 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

"  Anne,  how  would  you  like  to  go  to  France  ?  " 

Frontispiece 


FACING 
PAGE 


She  bought  and  he  paid 12 

"  That  is  where  you  come  in,  Colonel  dear,"  she 

laughed       .  38 

"  You  gotta  think,  Mrs.  Henderson  "       ....    148 


2136977 


.  HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 

CHAPTER  I 

ANNE  HENDERSON  did  not  know  it,  but 
for  the  first  time  in  her  life  she  was  squarely 
and  uncompromisingly  up  against  reality. 

After  having  been  lodged,  fed,  clothed  and  pro- 
tected, admired,  petted  and  praised  in  the  approved 
American  fashion  for  twenty-six  years,  she  awoke 
one  morning  in  the  eventful  year  1917,  to  find  her- 
self facing  a  straitened  widowhood. 

It  was  not,  however,  a  real  widowhood.  As  her 
exasperated  and  practical-minded  sister  Emma  said 
later,  she  hadn't  even  that  consolation!  For  she  was 
merely  the  wife  of  a  misguided  man  (the  adjective 
was  Emma's)  who  had  decided  all  of  a  sudden  that 
the  only  way  for  him  to  cut  the  knot  of  his  difficulties, 
wipe  the  slate  clean,  and  start  in  again  was  to  join 
the  Army. 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


His  decision  had  fallen  upon  his  wife  out  of  a  clear 
sky.  Roger  Henderson  came  home  one  night  from 
the  office,  hung  up  his  hat  as  usual,  complained  about 
the  quality  of  the  soup  as  usual,  gave  way  grudg- 
ingly to  Anne's  reminder  that  this  was  Husbands' 
Night  at  her  bridge  club,  started  to  put  on  the 
clothes  laid  out  for  him;  and  then,  as  he  tugged 
at  his  collar  before  the  mirror,  said  with  an  ominous 
quietness : 

"  This  is  the  last  damnfool  thing  I  do,  Anne.  I'm 
going  to  try  for  a  Commission.  If  they'll  take  me 
I'm  going  up  to  Plattsburg  next  month." 

It  was  queer  about  Roger  Henderson,  the  way  he 
happened  to  come  to  that  decision,  I  mean.  And  yet 
—  perhaps  he  came  to  it  as  the  average  man  comes 
upon  a  great  moment,  by  commonplace,  uncompre- 
hended  steps,  day  by  day  through  a  number  of  weeks 
or  months.  There  was  nothing  flamboyantly  patri- 
otic about  Roger.  Like  the  average  American  man 
he  had,  deeply  concealed  in  him,  quite  a  fund  of 
sentiment,  but  he  was  horribly  afraid  of  the  sen- 
timental gesture.  It  annoyed  him  in  the  theater  to 

2 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


be  obliged  to  rise  every  time  the  Star  Spangled 
Banner  was  flourished  musically,  although  on  these 
occasions  queer  sensations  crept  sheepishly  down  his 
spine.  He  jibed  at  himself  for  having  these  sensa- 
tions, but  they  increased  in  frequency  in  the  early 
spring  of  1917. 

For  one  thing,  there  was  the  Wireless  on  Broad- 
way. 

At  Times  Square,  where  the  roaring  lanes  con- 
verge, was  a  construction  shed,  and  on  this  shed 
the  Signal  Corps  had  put  up  a  wireless  apparatus. 
Roger  knew  it  was  merely  a  clever  way  of  advertis- 
ing the  Corps.  But  every  night  on  his  way  to  the 
subway  he  heard  the  virile  song  of  the  sender ;  every 
night  he  saw  that  uncanny,  beautiful  blue  spark  leap 
out  —  and  something  began  to  stir  uneasily  in  his 
sluggish  city  blood.  With  the  careless  tides  of 
Broadway  flowing  past  it,  the  wireless  talking  away 
up  there  seemed  to  prick  some  nerve  in  him  that 
civilization  had  not  yet  dulled.  It  made  him  want 
to  be  moving,  somewhere,  anywhere,  out  and  away 
from  the  walls  of  offices,  from  the  walls  of  apart- 

3 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


ments,  from  the  roaring  canyons  of  New  York.  It 
called  to  all  the  adventurous  youth  in  him  that  still 
resisted  the  commonplace  tides  of  maturity. 

And  then  there  was  the  trivial  incident  of  Snubby. 

Snubby  was  a  boy  in  the  drafting  room  of  Roger's 
firm.  No  one,  apparently,  knew  or  cared  what  was 
his  last  name.  He  was  regarded  as  an  unmitigated 
nuisance  because  of  his  habit  of  breaking  into  song 
just  when  the  tension  of  the  day  was  highest. 
"  Pretty  Baby  "  was  his  favorite  that  spring,  and 
he  sang  it,  con  amore,  through  his  nose.  Also  he 
carried  a  joke  book  in  his  pocket  and  was  forever  fox- 
trotting with  an  imaginary  partner  held  tenderly  in 
his  arms  down  the  length  of  the  drafting  room.  One 
day  he  did  not  report  for  work  as  usual  at  eight- 
thirty,  and  one  of  the  girl  stenographers  voiced  the 
general  feeling  when  she  said : 

"  Hope  Snubby's  joined  up  with  a  cabaret! " 

But  Snubby  had  joined  up  with  something  quite 
different.  One  afternoon  he  appeared  in  a  brand 
new  khaki  uniform,  with  a  smile  on  his  face  that 
struck  them  all  as  being  somehow  different  from 

4 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


the  one  to  which  they  were  accustomed.  They  all 
crowded  around  him  and  pretended  that  Snubby  in 
his  new  role  of  defender  of  the  nation  amused  them 
greatly,  especially  when  he  declared  that  he  was- go- 
ing to  qualify  for  the  Tanks.  And  when  he  had  left 
they  all  snorted  appreciatively  when  some  one  said: 

"  I  suppose  Snubby  will  sing  to  the  Germans  and 
they'll  fall  down  dead!" 

But  after  that  a  silence  fell  upon  the  drafting 
room.  In  fact  a  stillness  seemed  to  descend  upon  the 
whole  place.  The  boss  turned  away  from  where  he 
had  shaken  Snubby's  hand  in  farewell  and  went  into 
his  private  office,  closing  the  door  with  a  gentleness 
that  was  startling.  The  girl  stenographer  who  had 
made  the  remark  about  Snubby  and  the  cabaret 
walked  to  the  water  cooler  without  once  clicking  her 
heels.  And  here  and  there  a  fellow  sat  humped  over 
his  drawing  board  making  meaningless  marks  on  the 
paper  in  front  of  him. 

And  into  Roger  Henderson's  mind  slowly  wandered 
the  thought :  "  I  wish  I  was  back  at  Snubby's  age." 

Yes,  that  and  the  wireless,  these  two  trifles  were 
5 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


the  beginning  of  the  peculiar  soreness  of  the  spirit 
that  beset  him  in  the  spring  of  1917.  His  inmost 
thoughts  took  to  following  Snubby,  as  if  the  ad- 
venture of  that  ebullient  youth  were  secretly  his  own 
heart's  desire.  Another  young  chap  from  his  de- 
partment enlisted  soon  after  in  the  Engineers ;  nights, 
now,  when  he  left  the  office  he  had  to  elbow  his  way 
through  crowds  that  gathered  about  the  enlistment 
orators.  Their  persistent  voices  followed  him, 
mingling  with  the  raucous  voices  crying  extras,  those 
bulletins  that  each  hour  stirred  the  air  into  fresh 
waves  of  excitement. 

This  was  in  the  earliest  days  of  the  country's  great 
adventure.  The  city  soon  ceased  to  demand  an 
extra  an  hour;  outwardly  it  went  on  its  way,  buying 
and  selling,  dancing  and  making  love,  overeating  and 
starving,  as  usual.  But,  underneath  the  surface, 
powerful  and  subtle  waves  were  being  set  in  motion. 
Gradually  they  gained  strength,  they  lengthened 
out,  they  crept  into  every  business  office  and  home 
from  the  Battery  to  the  Bronx  in  one  form  or 
another ;  and  finally  they  got  at  Roger  Henderson. 

6 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


Deep  in  that  subconscious  mind  that  few  men 
ever  explore  he  had  probably  made  his  decision  long 
before  he  was  aware  of  it ;  all  that  was  needed  to 
bring  it  to  the  surface  was  some  absurd  small  thing, 
like  Husbands'  Night  at  his  wife's  Bridge  Club. 
That  and  the  discovery  that  all  his  collars  were  be- 
coming a  fraction  of  an  inch  too  small  for  him.  He 
looked  at  himself  in  the  mirror:  his  waistline  was 
getting  a  trifle  out  of  bounds  too ;  on  his  temples  his 
hair  was  thinning  a  bit ;  he  did  not  have  to  feel  of  his 
muscles  to  know  that  they  were  not  strictly  up  to 
par.  He  was  still  in  the  early  thirties ;  but  in  that 
instant  he  had  an  extremely  unpleasant  premonition 
of  what  it  was  going  to  be  like  to  be  middle-aged. 

Suddenly  something  wild,  untamed,  unhusband- 
like,  broke  loose  in  him.  It  reared  up  and  sneered 
at  the  Bridge  Club  and  all  that  it  stood  for;  it  con- 
templated with  derision  those  flabby  muscles  of  his ; 
it  raged  and  lashed  out  against  the  futility,  the 
monotony  and  the  burdens  of  his  life.  And  all  at 
once  he  heard  himself  saying  quietly :  "  I'm  going 
up  to  Plattsburg  next  month." 

7 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


Roger  and  Anne  did  not  go  to  the  Bridge  Club  that 
night.  The  other  husbands  had  to  support  the  oc- 
casion without  Roger's  help,  for  Anne,  when  she 
had  finally  taken  in  the  full  force  of  his  meaning, 
gave  way  to  something  that  resembled  plain, 
ordinary  hysteria. 

It  astonished  Roger,  the  way  she  took  his  decision, 
for  it  had  always  seemed  to  him  that  she  was  the  more 
patriotic  of  the  two.  She  had  been  one  of  the  very 
first  women  to  knit  on  the  Fifth  Avenue  busses;  she 
had  rolled  bandages  two  afternoons  a  week;  she  had 
been  on  three  war  relief  committees ;  and  she  had 
caught  a  frightful  cold  in  tableaux  at  a  war  relief 
bazaar. 

But  up  to  this  moment  War  had  stood  afar  off 
from  her.  Now  it  reached  out  a  hand  toward  some- 
thing that  belonged  most  intimately  to  her,  some- 
thing very  important  and  necessary  to  her,  some- 
thing without  which  all  her  well  ordered,  pleasant 
life  would  go  to  pieces.  Her  husband !  She 
obeyed  the  most  primal  and  the  least  lovely  of  all 
the  instincts  —  self-preservation  —  and  fought  for 

8 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


her  own.  After  about  an  hour  of  it  Roger  knew  that 
he  couldn't  stand  another  instant,  so  he  clapped  on 
his  hat,  and  —  not  having  a  barn  to  go  to  —  he  went 
into  the  street. 

That  night  Roger  Henderson  did  something  that 
few  men  ever  stop  long  enough  in  this  busy  world  to 
do:  he  walked  all  around  his  House  of  Life,  looked 
in  at  the  windows  and  then  stepped  back  and  sized 
up  the  whole  structure. 

He  did  not  in  the  least  like  what  he  saw.  The 
House  was  all  right  —  presentable,  modern  and 
smart.  But  its  foundations  went  no  deeper  than 
the  surface.  It  struck  him  —  he  was  savagely  de- 
pressed —  that  the  first  good  strong  ill  wind  would 
blow  the  whole  thing  over.  Also  the  furnishings  of 
the  House  came  in  for  a  gloomy  scrutiny:  and  the 
conclusion  he  came  to  was  that  what  was  in  his  House 
of  Life  was  mostly  junk  —  pretentious  junk,  at  that. 

When  he  left  Anne  and  his  own  apartment,  he  had 
crossed  Riverside  Drive  and  followed  a  little  path 
through  the  shrubbery  until  he  came  to  a  bench  that 
stood  by  itself,  with  the  ground  dropping  away  di- 

9 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


rectly  in  front  of  it  and  the  dark  river  spread  out 
below.  It  was  very  quiet  here,  no  one  passing  be- 
hind him,  and  in  front  of  him  the  mysterious  gleam 
of  the  river,  no  boats  moving  at  this  hour,  merely 
the  riding-lights  of  anchored  vessels  reflected  in  the 
deep  wine-colored  water.  They  had  some  time  since 
begun  to  crowd  the  broad  bosom  of  the  river,  these 
vessels,  freighters,  transports,  battleships  —  most  of 
them  a  dull  gray,  some  of  them  with  a  camouflage  of 
wavy  stripes  on  their  rusty  flanks,  each  of  them 
awaiting  a  mysterious  word  to  start  forth  on  its 
own  great  adventure.  They  seemed  to  Henderson 
to  accent  the  staleness  of  his  own  life. 

"  What's  the  matter  with  me  ?"  he  thought. 
"  Was  Anne  right  when  she  said  I  only  want  ad- 
venture, that  I  am  tired  of  her  and  home  and  every- 
thing? Or  is  it  that  this  is  the  biggest  thing  I'll 
ever  have  a  chance  at  —  and  I'll  hate  myself  forever 
if  I  don't  take  a  chance?  " 

His  thoughts  went  deeper,  into  the  roots  of  his 
own  personal  life.  "  What's  the  matter  with  me,  any- 
way? Somewhere  I've  missed  a  trick.  I  haven't  got 

10 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


within  a  hundred  miles  of  where  I  started  for  when 
I  was  twenty-one.  What  have  I  done  with  the  last 
nine  years?  Precious  little,  seems  to  me.  Married 
.  .  .  made  a  home  —  if  you  can  call  an  apartment 
a  home  —  no  children,  but  that  couldn't  be  helped, 
in  a  way  —  couldn't  afford  'em  ...  a  raft  of  ac- 
quaintances, and  not  a  real  friend  that's  worth 
while  ...  no  money  saved  .  .  .  still  on  a  salary, 
the  boss  beginning  to  look  at  me  with  a  question  mark 
in  his  eye  ...  a  lot  of  expensive  habits.  And  Anne 
.  .  .  and  Anne  .  .  ." 

Here  his  thoughts  winced  and  shrank  away.  He 
did  not  want  to  own  up  even  to  himself  that  this  night 
had  shown  him  how  far  apart  he  and  Anne  had 
allowed  themselves  to  drift. 

They  had  been  most  deeply  and  tenderly  in  love 
with  each  other  when  they  married.  He  had  brought 
her  to  the  city  when  he  got  his  first  good  advance 
of  salary  with  the  Leavitt  Construction  Company. 
And  straightway  the  city  had  begun  to  pour  its 
subtle  poison  into  their  veins.  It  offered  them  dis- 
tractions without  end.  They  were  young  and  at- 

11 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


tractive  and  well  bred.  They  made  friends  easily. 
They  outgrew  astoundingly  their  frugal  habits. 
With  each  raise  in  salary  their  scale  of  living  inched 
a  little  higher.  Anne's  sister  Emma,  and  Anne's  best 
friend,  Ada  Kent,  set  a  pace  that  more  and  more 
often  left  Roger  and  Anne  gasping  over  the  dis- 
crepancy between  salary  and  current  expenses.  Not 
that  Anne  did  much  gasping.  Before  her  marriage 
she  had  rarely  paid  one  of  her  own  bills,  never  kept 
an  account,  and  after  marriage  she  serenely  left  all 
that  to  Roger.  She  bought  and  he  paid.  Some- 
times when  the  bills  were  outrageously  dispropor- 
tionate to  what  was  coming  in  he  waxed  sarcastic, 
or  looked  gloomy,  or  lost  his  temper  according  to 
his  mood;  and  she  cajoled  or  wept  according  to  hers, 
and  the  good  domestic  ship  staggered  on  again. 

She  knew  as  much  about  his  work  and  his  ambi- 
tions as  a  kitten  knows  of  algebra.  But  the  fault 
in  this  matter  was  almost  fifty-fifty.  One  of  Anne's 
great  attractions  for  him  before  they  were  married 
had  been  her  butterfly  inconsequence,  her  carefree 
gayety,  her  innocence  and  ignorance  of  a  world  he 

12 


SHE    BOUGHT   AND    HE    PAID 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


was  already  beginning  to  find  grimly  hard.  He  had 
said  to  himself  in  those  days  that  he  wanted  always 
to  shield  her  from  too  much  knowledge.  He  did  not 
want  her  pretty  head  bothered  about  the  dusty  de- 
tails of  his  day's  work ;  when  he  came  home  at  night 
all  he  asked  of  a  wife  was  to  look  pretty  and  be 
cheerful. 

But  one  of  life's  little  ironies  lies  in  the  fact  that 
the  qualities  a  man  marries  for  before  he  is  twenty- 
five  are  the  very  qualities  that  are  likely  to  irritate 
him  when  he  is  thirty.  Some  time  before  he  reached 
thirty  Roger  had  begun  to  look  at  his  wife's  engag- 
ing little  extravagances  with  a  critical  eye;  he  had 
begun  to  listen  to  her  dinner  conversation  with  ears 
that  were  the  least  bit  bored.  It  did  not  soothe  his 
irritation  much  when  Anne  reminded  him  that  he 
liked  to  see  her  in  good  clothes,  that  he  liked  the  lit- 
tle dinners  they  gave,  and  wanted  nothing  but  really 
good  furniture  and  silver  and  crystal  in  their  apart- 
ment —  that  little  apartment  that  took  so  huge  a 
bite  from  his  salary  each  month.  And  in  the  mat- 
ter of  conversation  Anne  was  not  really  dull.  She 

13 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


had  a  quick-glancing  mind,  but,  somehow,  there  was 
nothing  very  stimulating  in  the  nightly  retailing  of 
her  daily  doings.  These  doings  had  come  to  seem 
to  him  irritatingly  trivial. 

He  loved  her  —  of  course  he  loved  her.  He  would 
have  given  his  life  to  protect  her ;  he  thought  her  the 
prettiest  and  sweetest  woman  among  his  acquaint- 
ances. But  —  there  was  no  dodging  this  "  but  " 
once  he  had  stared  long  enough  into  his  House  of 
Life  —  there  was  between  him  and  Anne  a  vague  stale- 
ness,  a  faint,  increasing  sense  of  irritation,  an  in- 
definite disappointment.  It  was  somehow  as  if  they 
had  not  quite  come  up  to  the  promise  each  had  held 
out  to  the  other  at  the  beginning.  Two  or  three 
times  in  the  last  year  they  had  quarreled  rather  bit- 
terly. They  had  always  "  made  up  "  in  a  day  or 
two,  but  the  scars  remained.  The  quarrels  were 
generally  over  the  question  of  the  monthly  bills,  and 
after  each  quarrel  a  conviction  rankled  in  his 
heart  that  all  a  woman  wanted  a  man  for,  anyway, 
was  the  luxuries  he  could  furnish  her ;  it  didn't  mat- 
ter how  hard  he  worked  or  what  he  worked  at  so 

14 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


long  as  he  brought  home  enough  to  enable  her  to  live 
the  way  some  other  woman  lived.  A  woman  was  just 
an  ornamental  thing  outside  a  man's  real,  impor- 
tant life  —  and  she  was  a  mighty  expensive  append- 
age. 

The  most  unhappy  of  all  their  quarrels  had  oc- 
curred after  Leavitt,  his  boss,  told  him  that  if  he 
had  any  money  saved  there  was  an  opportunity  to 
invest  it  in  a  new  branch  of  work  the  company  was 
taking  up.  It  was  an  opportunity  that  meant  a 
first  step  toward  that  junior  partnership  which  was 
the  goal  of  his  ambitions.  It  had  seemed  to  him  that 
there  was  no  real  reason  why  he  should  not  reach  that 
goal  very  early  in  his  life.  He  knew  that  Leavitt 
liked  him  personally  —  he  was  the  kind  of  well- 
dressed,  pleasant,  keen  young  man  whom  middle-aged 
business  men  like  to  take  out  to  luncheon  and  to 
play  golf  with  on  Saturday  afternoons.  But  when 
Leavitt  put  the  question  of  his  savings  to  him  point 
blank  and  he  had  confessed  that  his  savings  at  that 
moment  would  not  have  bought  a  dinner  at  a  first- 
class  restaurant,  he  saw  a  queer,  cold  expression  of 

15 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


disapproval  come  into  his  employer's  eyes.  It  was 
the  first  genuine  jolt  of  his  life.  And  that  night 
he  had  resolved  to  have  that  talk  with  Anne  about  his 
business  future  which  he  had  never  before  got  around 
to  having. 

But  he  was  not  at  all  in  the  right  spirit  for  such 
a  talk.  He  had  been  in  a  bitter  and  exasperated 
mood;  and  they  had  said  things  to  each  other  that 
hurt  each  of  them  for  a  long  time  afterward. 

"  Why,  Roger  Henderson,  you're  blaming  me  be- 
cause you  haven't  any  money  saved ! "  Anne  had 
cried,  genuine  astonishment  in  her  eyes.  "  I'm  sure 
I  do  my  best.  A  man  doesn't  know  how  frightfully 
hard  it  is,  scrimping  along  on  a  salary  like  yours, 
with  our  tastes." 

"  Humph !  And  a  woman  doesn't  know  how 
'  frightfully  hard  '  it  is  to  pull  down  a  salary,  even  a 
salary  like  mine.'* 

Anne  set  her  lips  mutinously.  "  It  doesn't  seem 
to  be  so  awfully  hard  for  some  men " 

"  That's  right,  compare  me  with  your  sister's 
Henry,  and  that  bounder,  Kent!  Oh,  I  know  you 

16 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


think  I'm  a  failure  because  I  can't  give  you  the  things 
they  have.  I'd  like  to  see  a  few  women  like  you  try 
to  earn  your  own  living  —  you'd  find  out  it's  no 
picnic." 

"  You  think  I'm  extravagant  and  incompetent," 
she  flashed  back.  "  You're  always  comparing  me 
with  Mrs.  Lymon  —  as  if  I  could  live  in  the  Bronx 
and  wear  the  kind  of  hats  Mrs.  Lymon  wears." 

"  Well,  let  me  tell  you,  my  dear,"  Roger  smiled 
grimly,  "  that  no  matter  what  kind  of  hats  she  wears, 
Mrs.  Lymon  must  be  a  wonder.  Lymon  gets  less 
salary  than  I  do,  but  he's  managed  to  save  enough  — 
with  two  children,  too  —  to  buy  that  stock  I  couldn't 
buy.  I  heard  that  cheerful  bit  of  news  before  I  left 
this  afternoon." 

Anne's  lips  began  to  quiver.  "  You  think  I  ought 
to  have  had  children,  and  bring  them  up  in  —  in  the 
slummy  places  where  those  Lymons  live  —  and  never 
have  any  clothes,  or  know  nice  people  —  or  go  any- 
where   " 

And  then  he  said  the  thing  that  was  to  rankle  in 
her  mind  for  a  long  time  to  come. 

17 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


"  I  think  as  a  wife  you've  fallen  down  on  your  job, 
that's  what  I  think,"  he  said  grimly. 

"  Oh !  "  she  gasped,  astonishment,  anger  and  pain 
mingled  in  her  eyes  and  her  voice.  "  I  think  you're 
terribly  unjust.  And,  anyway,  if  I've  fallen  down 
on  my  job,  so  have  you.  Everybody  said  that  in  five 
years  you'd  be  a  member  of  the  firm,  but  you're  not, 
and  you  needn't  blame  me,  either.  You  like  to  have 
good  clothes  and  belong  to  an  expensive  club  and  play 
golf,  you  know  you  do.  You  like  to  have  me  look 
nice  when  I  go  out  with  you.  And  you  knew  when 
you  married  me  I  had  never  had  any  responsibility. 
I  think  it's  cruel  of  you  to  blame  me  for  everything. 
And  you're  getting  to  be  just  as  moody  and  cranky 
as  you  can  be !  " 

They  looked  at  each  other  with  eyes  in  which  there 
was  a  gleam  that  almost  resembled  hate.  Then  sud- 
denly Anne  cried : 

"  Oh,  Roger,  how  could  we  ever  say  such  things  to 
each  other?  I  love  you  —  please  forgive  me  — 
please,  Roger  .  .  ." 

18 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


And  they  were  in  each  other's  arras,  Anne  sobbing, 
and  Roger  contritely  kissing  her  hair. 

But  the  scar  remained.  Neither  of  them 
forgot. 

The  night  that  Roger  walked  around  his  House 
of  Life  and  looked  in  at  its  windows  he  faced  for  the 
first  time  the  true  significance  of  this  quarrel,  and 
the  other  lesser  bickerings  that  had  followed  in  its 
train.  He  knew  that  this  was  the  way  marriages 
went  to  pieces.  A  mutual  dissatisfaction,  first  con- 
cealed and  then  gradually  coming  to  the  surface  in 
little  bickerings,  criticisms,  resentments.  The  bloom 
rubbing  off  the  intimacy  of  their  life.  Their  tender- 
ness, their  delight  in  each  other  growing  daily  less, 
as  the  common  ground  between  them  became  limited 
to  a  few  commonplace,  external  facts  of  life.  The 
common  ground  between  them  —  they  had  none,  it 
seemed  to  him.  They  had  no  deep  roots  such  as  chil- 
dren give  to  marriage,  they  had  not  even  the  common 
ground  of  property,  a  home.  Without  regret  or 
sentiment  they  shifted  apartments  every  two  or  three 
years.  And  their  friends  were  like  their  succession 

19 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


of  abiding  places  —  transitory,  delightful  at  first  and 
quickly  wearied  of,  new  ones  appearing  frequently, 
and  ever  more  desirable  ones  on  the  horizon. 

It  was  so  with  almost  every  young  couple  Roger 
knew.  It  was  in  the  air  they  breathed,  the  ex- 
hilarating, heady  air  of  the  city.  Something  was 
making  them  all  shallow  and  restless.  It  seemed  to 
him  to-night  that  nothing  in  all  their  lives  was  worth 
the  doing.  But  how  could  they  change?  The  rut 
in  which  they  walked  was  growing  deeper,  their  ex- 
pensive, shallow  habits  were  formed,  a  callousness 
of  the  spirit  was  subtly  hardening  them.  It  was 
with  a  sense  of  bewildered  despair  that  he  sat  look- 
ing out  on  the  river  and  the  gray  vessels  swaying 
mysteriously  and  silently  with  the  tide. 

But,  when  he  turned  his  back  on  the  river  and  went 
home  many  hours  later,  there  was  a  sort  of  peace 
in  his  soul.  For  he  had  irrevocably  made  his  de- 
cision. He  was  going  to  war.  For  the  vague  and 
petty  harassments,  the  threatening  failure  and  dis- 
appointment of  his  business  and  personal  life,  he  was 

20 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


going  to  exchange  a  grim  reality,  a  high  and  terrible 
adventure. 

He  did  not  call  his  motives  by  any  high-sounding 
name.  They  were  mixed,  for  he  was  the  average 
man.  He  was  going  because  he  had  come  to  a  sort 
of  blind  alley  in  his  affairs.  He  was  going  because 
something  of  the  boy  still  persisted  in  him  —  the  boy 
that  had  responded  to  Snubby  and  to  the  Wireless  on 
Broadway.  He  was  going  because  he  was  capable 
of  feeling  those  sheepish  thrills  down  his  spine  when 
the  orchestra  played  the  Star  Spangled  Banner. 
He  was  going  because  of  an  anger  that  had  been 
slowly  gathering  in  him  as  he  read  of  senseless  acts 
of  cruelty.  He  was  going  because  he  wanted  to 
"  get  into  the  game."  But  —  he  was  going ! 


CHAPTER  II 

OF  course,  not  understanding  himself  and  his 
motives  very  well,  and  being  almost  entirely 
unable  to  put  them  into  words,  the  next 
few  weeks  while  he  was  trying  to  make  Anne  under- 
stand were  very  difficult. 

She  declared  many  times  that  she  was  just  as 
patriotic  as  any  other  woman  —  but  why  should 
Roger,  of  all  men,  want  to  go  to  War?  It  wasn't 
as  if  he  were  young  and  unmarried,  as  if  he  had 
no  responsibilities.  Secretly  she  wished  that  she  had 
had  children;  she  could  have  held  him  with  children. 
And  then  she  was  ashamed  of  herself.  She  cried  a 
great  deal  when  she  was  alone,  and  called  herself 
wicked  and  selfish,  but  nevertheless  she  made  a  definite 
effort,  at  first,  to  keep  him  at  home. 

But  one  day,  when  she  surprised  in  his  face  a 
faintly  contemptuous  expression,  she  stopped  in  the 

22 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


middle  of  the  latest  argument  she  had  thought  out 
against  his  enlisting,  and  said  to  herself :  "  It's  no 
use.  I  have  no  power  over  him.  He  is  going." 

She  went  through,  then,  a  period  of  bewilderment 
and  fear.  What  was  to  become  of  her  ?  How  could 
she  get  through  the  days,  how  bear  the  unbearable 
suspense?  And  if  anything  happened  to  Roger,  how 
should  she  live?  They  had  not  one  penny  saved. 
If  Roger  succeeded  in  getting  an  officer's  commission, 
she  would  have  to  live  on  what  he  could  spare  her  of 
an  officer's  pay,  which  would  mean  she  would  have 
to  lower  her  standard  of  living.  And  she  hated  to 
think  of  that.  Already  her  standard  had  gone  a  bit 
too  high  for  their  income,  and  yet  she  did  not  see 
where  she  could  possibly  cut  down.  As  for  her  earn- 
ing anything  for  herself,  that  seemed  out  of  the  ques- 
tion. She  had  been  brought  up  to  believe  that  a 
woman's  natural  business  is  matrimony,  and  that 
she  needs  no  other  if  she  is  attractive.  She  was 
totally  unprepared  in  imagination  as  well  as  in  at- 
tainments for  what  was  about  to  happen  to  her. 

She  never  discussed  these  thoughts  of  hers  with 
23 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


Roger,  because  Roger  had  settled  her  future  to  his 
own  satisfaction.  She  was  to  live  with  her  sister 
Emma  who  was  prosperously  married,  and  who 
wanted  her.  He  would  know  that  she  was  safe,  and 
that  would  mean  a  tremendous  lot  to  him  when  he  got 
"  over  there."  It  seemed  to  him  a  highly  satisfactory 
arrangement.  She  did  not  hint  to  him  that  she  fore- 
saw drawbacks  to  the  plan,  for  at  the  last,  when 
Roger  had  completed  his  training,  received  a  second 
Lieutenant's  commission,  and  had  come  home  on  brief 
leave,  the  best  and  the  sweetest  side  of  Anne  came 
uppermost.  They  had  a  few  days  together  that 
were  like  a  return  of  the  first  year  of  their  marriage, 
when  each  was  determined  to  let  the  other  see  only 
desirable  qualities.  Anne  wanted  him  to  take  away 
a  picture  of  her  smiling  and  confident,  and  she  suc- 
ceeded. When  Roger  sailed  for  France  it  was  with 
the  comfortable  assurance  that  he  was  leaving  be- 
hind him  a  wife  who  would  be  safe  and  contented  in 
her  sister's  home. 

But  he  had  scarcely  disembarked  on  the  other  side 
before  Anne  began  to  get  restless.     She  was  begin- 

24 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


ning  to  pay  the  penalty  of  her  education. —  or  her  lack 
of  it.  She  had  no  resources  within  herself.  All  over 
the  country  there  were  hundreds,  yes,  thousands  like 
her,  wives  of  high-salaried  young  men,  who  were 
neither  of  the  overworked  laboring  class  nor  of  the 
equally  overworked  moneyed  world.  They  were  born 
and  spent  all  their  days  in  the  temperate  zone  of  hu- 
man endeavor.  They  went  from  a  father's  providing 
hand  to  a  husband's  protection,  and  the  winds  were 
tempered  to  them  from  the  cradle  to  the  grave.  And 
all  good  things  they  took  for  granted. 

In  return  for  the  beneficence  of  their  circumstances 
they  told  a  competent  cook  what  to  have  for  dinner, 
watched  a  competent  nursemaid  giving  the  baby  a 
sterilized  bath  —  if  there  chanced  to  be  a  baby ;  did 
a  bit  of  darning ;  telephoned  a  woman  friend  or  two ; 
reminded  the  janitor  that  the  steam  heat  was  not 
behaving  as  it  should;  lunched;  slept  half  an  hour; 
made  a  careful  toilet,  and  then,  groomed  sleekly, 
went  forth  to  a  matinee,  or  a  tea-room,  or  to  have 
their  nails  done,  or  to  play  bridge,  or  to  listen  po- 
litely to  a  Baroness  raising  money  for  the  Russian 

25 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


ambulance,  or  to  a  thinly  clad  person  wailing  East 
Indian  love  songs  for  Serbian  Relief.  They  got 
home  in  time  for  dinner,  smiled  brightly  at  husband, 
inquired  amiably  if  he  had  had  a  good  day  —  going 
on  before  he  could  answer  to  talk  about  something  else 
—  ;  and  in  the  evening  took  him  to  the  Bridge  Club, 
or  to  somebody's  Little  Dancing  Club,  or  to  a  Sym- 
phony Concert,  which  bored  him  sadly.  In  New 
York  Anne  was  only  one  of  hundreds  of  these  tem- 
perate-zone ladies.  On  any  fine  afternoon  she  walked 
up  Fifth  Avenue  in  company  with  scores  of  them, 
cleverly  dressed  young  matrons,  alert,  bright-eyed, 
slender  as  shadows, —  almost  entirely  useless,  almost 
entirely  idle. 

Of  this  class  was  Anne  Henderson.  She  was  very 
pretty,  in  the  bright,  rather  fragile  American  way, 
enormously  quick  at  picking  up  the  latest  thing  from 
the  smart  fashion  magazines,  clever  with  the  furn- 
ishings of  her  home,  energetic  by  spurts,  and  quite 
pleased  with  herself  in  a  way  that  was  never  offensive 
because  she  was  charming,  good  humored  and  de- 
lightful to  look  at. 

26 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


But  early  in  the  spring  of  1917  things  were  be- 
ginning to  happen  that  troubled  the  serenity  even  of 
the  Anne  Hendersons  of  the  country.  Here  and 
there  the  Rogers  were  slipping  out  from  under  the 
burden  of  offices  and  wives  —  to  take  up  a  burden 
more  glorious,  if  more  terrible.  And  here  and  there 
a  wife  was  finding  herself  thrown  back  upon  her  rela- 
tives, bewildered,  a  trifle  resentful  in  spite  of  her 
pride  in  her  man,  and  finally  restless  in  her  changed 
circumstances. 

Anne  had  not  been  with  sister  Emma  two  months 
before  she  was  saying  to  herself  that  she  could  not 
stand  it  another  month.  Emma  meant  well,  she  was 
devoted  to  her  younger  sister,  but  Anne  had  never 
particularly  liked  Emma's  Henry,  and,  anyway,  liv- 
ing in  another  woman's  home  was  irksome  after  being 
queen  of  her  own.  Besides,  Emma  was  rather  tact- 
less in  her  criticism  of  Roger,  her  stand  being  that 
Roger  should  have  stayed  at  home  and  taken  care  of 
his  wife.  And  having  nothing,  now,  in  the  way  of 
household  management  to  occupy  her,  Anne  did  more 
thinking  than  she  had  ever  done  in  her  life  before. 

27 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


It  was  rather  hazy  thinking,  to  be  sure;  but  in  the 
course  of  it  she  asked  herself  several  unusual  ques- 
tions, as,  for  instance,  what  she  could  do  to  earn  a 
living,  in  case  she  found  her  position  in  Emma's 
household  too  difficult? 

At  this  early  stage  of  the  game  there  had  not  be- 
gun that  rush  of  women  into  industry  that  was  to 
be  an  astonishing  feature  of  the  following  year;  but 
even  then  women  were  doing  many  interesting  things 
in  war  work.  Anne  would  have  liked  to  wear  a  uni- 
form and  drive  a  motor  car,  but  when  she  made  a 
few  tentative  inquiries  and  found  that  this  picturesque 
branch  involved  furnishing  not  only  the  uniform  but 
the  motor  car,  she  gave  up  that  ideal.  Even  to  go 
abroad  as  a  canteen  worker,  at  that  time,  she  found 
she  must  pay  a  thousand  dollars  and  speak  fluent 
French.  She  had  neither.  Nursing  was  out  of  the 
question.  It  made  her  ill  to  think  of  scrubbing  a 
hospital  floor.  But  there  was  the  great  world  of 
business.  To  be  sure  she  had  never  been  interested 
even  in  her  husband's  business;  but  she  had  met,  in 

28 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


fiction,  several  amazing  business  women;  she  let  her 
mind  play  around  this  field  hopefully. 

And  so,  Roger  had  not  been  gone  long  when  all 
these  vague  stirrings  of  discontent  in  Anne's  mind 
were  brought  to  a  head  one  day  when  she  met  at  a 
tea  a  young  woman  whom  she  had  known  at  school 
and  had  not  seen  much  of  since.  Marian  Beal  was 
now  a  young  widow  who  had  tired  of  a  comfortable 
but  too  restricted  home  with  her  mother-in-law. 
She,  too,  was  being  troubled  by  the  time-spirit.  But 
she  was  plainly  much  more  experienced  than  Anne. 
She  had  already  come  undaunted  through  one  bout 
with  the  world,  having  tried  a  job  as  social  secretary 
to  a  rich  but  crotchety  old  lady.  As  no  one  could 
read  her  writing  and  she  was  too  indolent  to  master 
the  typewriter,  and  being  moreover  averse  to  order 
and  discipline  of  any  kind,  Marian  was  a  failure 
even  at  inditing  dinner  notes.  So  now  she  proposed 
going  into  business  for  herself. 

"  It's  going  to  be  awfully  exciting,"  she  confided 
gayly  to  Anne.  "  I'm  going  to  open  a  shop  —  I've 
got  the  name  already:  The  Shop  of  Precious 

29 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


Things.  Isn't  that  a  fetching  name?  I'm  going 
to  have  the  sign  done  in  mauve  and  orange  to  match 
the  curtains  in  the  windows,  and«of  course,  I'll  get 
a  smart  location.  I  have  the  darlingest  mauve 
smock  I'm  going  to  wear.  I  think  possibly  I'll  have 
a  maid  to  open  the  door  and  serve  tea.  The  whole 
thing's  going  to  be  too  swanky  for  anything!  " 

Anne  listened  enviously;  Marian's  conservation 
opened  up  a  magic  world  of  possibilities.  It  de- 
veloped that  all  Marian  lacked  was  a  small  capital 
and  a  partner. 

Lying  awake  that  night  Anne  grew  more  and  more 
excited  as  she  thought  about  Marian's  idea.  Next 
morning  she  asked  Emma  to  lend  her  the  money 
necessary  to  become  Marian's  partner.  Emma 
looked  aghast  and  promptly  refused. 

"  Anne  Henderson,  if  you  have  anything  to  do 
with  that  rattle-brained  Seal  girl  you'll  be  sorry  for 
it.  She's  absolutely  irresponsible.  I've  always  said 
she'd  be  a  Becky  Sharp  if  she  had  more  brains! 
Why,  you'd  be  a  baby  in  her  hands !  What  do  you 

30 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


know  about  business?  And,  besides,  what  would 
everybody  say?" 

"  I  don't  care  what  everybody  would  say,"  Anne 
retorted  stormily.  "  I'm  tired  of  sitting  around 
waiting  for  letters  from  Roger  and  knitting.  I'm 
so  unhappy  —  I  have  so  much  time  to  think  —  a 
dozen  times  a  day  I  see  Roger  getting  killed  over 
there " 

"  Anne,  for  goodness'  sake  don't  cry !  We've  gone 
all  over  that  a  hundred  times.  You  know  that  Henry 
says  the  officers  in  the  trenches  aren't  in  any  more 
danger  than  they  would  be  in  the  subway.  Henry 
says  that  statistics  show " 

"  Henry !  Yes,  it's  all  right  for  Henry  —  he's 
sticking  safe  at  home  with  his  old  statistics.  Emma, 
I  don't  see  how  you  can  let  him  sleep  in  his  chair 
every  night  after  dinner  —  he's  getting  disgustingly 
fat  around  the  waist." 

And  the  conversation  ended  in  a  marked  coldness 
on  both  sides.  Emma,  hurt  in  her  tenderest  spot  by 
Anne's  remarks  about  her  Henry,  declared  that  she 
washed  her  hands  of  Anne  and  her  affairs.  She  had 

31 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


tried  to  give  Anne  a  good  home  and  make  her  con- 
tented and  Anne  had  no  gratitude.  And  Anne,  stung 
to  the  quick  by  Emma's  outspoken  disbelief  in  her 
practical  abilities,  was  more  aroused  than  she  had 
ever  been. 

Running  up  to  her  room  she  put  on  her  outdoor 
tilings  and  went  to  the  drug  store  on  the  corner, 
where  she  could  telephone  without  being  overheard. 
She  got  Marian  Beal  on  the  wire  and  informed  her 
that  their  hopes  were  dead;  Emma  refused  to  lend 
the  money. 

"  How  disappointing!  "  came  back  Marian's  voice. 
**  I  should  so  have  loved  to  have  you  for  a  partner, 
Anne  —  you  would  have  been  so  ornamental  in  a 
smock.  You  haven't  any  other  friend  who  would 
lend  you  the  money  ?  " 

"  No  one  I'd  care  to  ask."  Anne's  voice  was 
mournful.  "  Don't  you  know  any  one  that  would 
let  us  have  the  money,  just  for  a  little  while?  " 

There  was  a  silence  as  if  Marian  was  thinking. 
"  Do  you  know  Colonel  Hardenbrook,  Anne?  "  she 

32 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


asked  finally.     "  No  ?     Well,  it  doesn't  matter.     I 
don't  know  whether  he  would " 

"  I  don't  think  we  should  borrow  money  from  a 
man,  Marian !  "  Anne  interrupted. 

Marian  laughed.  "  You're  a  funny  little  duck ! 
I  didn't  say  we  were  going  to,  did  I?  Let  me  see  — " 
a  long  pause  — "  I  tell  you  what !  Suppose  we  have 
tea  to-morrow  at  Sherry's?  We'll  talk  it  all  over 
then.  And,  look  here  —  wear  that  spiffy  little  brown 
suit  you  had  on  the  other  day,  will  you,  darling?  " 

When  Anne  walked  into  Sherry's  the  next  after- 
noon she  wore  the  requested  garments  and  the  little 
fur-trimmed  hat  that  went  with  them.  Moreover, 
as  she  had  walked  across  the  Park  and  down  the 
Avenue  she  had  a  lovely  color.  Her  lips  were  parted 
eagerly  as  she  glanced  about  for  her  friend,  and  her 
eyes  were  very  bright.  Marian  rose  from  a  deep 
velvet  sofa  and  swam  to  meet  her. 

"  Darling,  you  look  perfectly  swanky !  I  love  that 
hat  and  veil.  And,  Anne,  this  is  Colonel  Harden- 
brook.  He  came  this  afternoon  for  just  one  rea- 
son —  to  meet  you." 

33 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


Anne's  eyes  grew  large  with  surprise  as  she  be- 
came aware  that  there  was  a  gentleman  with  Marian. 
He  bent  smiling  over  her  hand. 

"  I  came  for  two  reasons,"  he  said,  glancing  gal- 
lantly from  Anne  to  Marian.  But  his  eyes  came 
back  at  once  to  rest  approvingly  on  that  bit  of  Anne's 
cheek  where  in  her  veil  a  tiny  leaf  was  outlined  in 
velvet  dots  against  the  delicious  pink  of  her  cheek. 

After  they  were  seated  at  a  table  overlooking  the 
Avenue  the  Colonel  continued  to  look  at  Anne's  rosy 
color  as  an  epicure  gazes  at  a  particularly  delectable 
dessert.  In  fact,  he  gazed  at  both  of  his  companions 
as  if  they  were  two  piquant  appetizers  served  up  for 
before-dinner  consumption.  He  leaned  back  in  his 
chair  with  his  hands  negligently  in  the  pockets  of  his 
extremely  well  tailored,  slightly  sporty  clothes,  his 
shrunken  figure  collapsing  inside  their  smart  lines 
as  if  he  had  no  backbone  whatever.  But  his  eyes  were 
never  still.  They  were  set  so  far  back  under  two 
ragged,  grizzled  brows  that  it  was  impossible  to  tell 
what  was  their  color,  but  the  gleam  of  them  was  not 
hidden.  It  was  like  a  little  searchlight,  pursuing 

34 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


every  human  object  within  range  with  its  speculative 
gleam.  It  ranged  from  Marian  to  Anne  as  if  he 
were  counting  their  very  eyelashes  and  searching 
with  mildly  cynical  amusement  their  hidden  thoughts. 

He  could  not,  if  he  had  searched  ten  blocks  of  the 
Avenue  that  afternoon,  have  found  two  women  more 
dissimilar.  Perhaps  this  was  what  kept  him  glancing 
with  that  appraising  gleam  from  one  to  the  other. 
Marian  Beal  was  long-limbed,  graceful  and  exces- 
sively thin,  with  a  pale  olive  skin  which  only  the  most 
rigorous  attention  to  diet  kept  from  being  sallow. 
Her  eyes  were  a  mixture  of  olive  and  green,  and  they 
had  the  gift  of  a  hundred  shades  of  expression  from 
a  watchful  blankness  to  a  sparkling  diablerie.  She 
was  extremely  clever  with  clothes.  With  the  aid  of  a 
black  gown,  a  bizarre  string  of  beads  and  a  hat  at 
a  daring  angle  she  could  turn  her  plainness  to  a 
provocative  piquancy. 

By  contrast  Anne  looked  very  young.  There  was 
something  innocent,  candid  and  fresh  about  her  as  she 
sat  drinking  her  tea,  with  her  brown  hair  curling 
up  under  the  fur  of  her  hat  and  the  veil  with  the 

35 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


velvet  leaf  thrown  back  over  her  shoulder.  She 
rather  resented  the  Colonel's  detached,  amused  atti- 
tude, but  she  innocently  enjoyed  his  unconcealed  ad- 
miration. He  seemed  to  her  so  old  that  there  could 
be  no  offense  in  his  glances.  He  must  be,  she  re- 
flected, glancing  at  his  shriveled  hands,  at  least  fifty, 
perhaps  sixty  —  which  age  seemed  very  ancient  in- 
deed to  her. 

She  wondered  whether  he  and  Marian  had  met 
without  premeditation  at  the  door,  or  if  Marian  had 
invited  him,  and  if  so,  why  —  he  was  so  totally  dif- 
ferent from  the  type  of  man  she  had  always  known. 
But  she  was  very  quickly  to  know  why  he  was  there, 
for  Marian  lost  no  time  in  getting  to  the  point. 
As  she  poured  the  tea  she  launched  into  a  vivacious 
description  of  her  new  enterprise.  As  she  elaborated 
her  idea  it  sounded  rich,  promising  and  picturesque. 
Anne  lost  her  shyness  of  the  Colonel  and  joined  in. 
The  Colonel  leaned  back  in  his  chair,  looking  from 
one  to  the  other  while  his  eyes  appeared  to  retreat 
into  their  shaggy  lairs,  from  which  they  sent  out 
gleams  of  curiosity  and  amusement. 

36 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


"  Isn't  it  going  to  be  too  awfully  swanky  for  any- 
thing? "  cried  Marian,  with  her  most  ingenuous  air. 
"  If  you  are  very  nice,  you  may  come  every  after- 
noon and  have  tea  with  us." 

"  Corking !  I  can't  think  of  anything  I'd  rather 
do.  You'll  be  irresistible  in  those  mauve  smocks  — 
especially  our  little  friend,  here."  He  looked  at 
Anne.  Then  he  immediately  turned  his  gleam  back 
upon  Marian,  but  with  a  difference.  "  Where  are 
you  going  to  get  your  capital  ?  "  he  inquired. 

Marian  met  the  Colonel's  eye  direct,  with  an  auda- 
cious sparkle.  "  That  is  where  you  come  in,  Colonel 
dear !  "  she  laughed. 

The  Colonel  laughed  also,  but  warily.  "  So  I 
suspected,"  he  murmured. 

Anne  felt  the  blood  rushing  up  to  her  face.  So 
this  was  why  Marian  had  arranged  this  little  tea- 
party!  It  seemed  to  her  rather  awful,  the  baldness 
of  inviting  a  man  to  tea  and  then  holding  him  up  for 
a  loan.  For  a  moment  she  wished  she  were  anywhere 
but  at  that  table;  she  felt  like  apologizing  for  her- 
self and  Marian,  and  she  looked  down  into  her  tea- 

37 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


cup  with  distressed  eyes.  But  in  a  moment  she  de- 
cided she  was  taking  the  thing  too  seriously.  For 
the  Colonel  and  Marian  were  treating  the  proposi- 
tion as  if  it  were  a  good  joke;  for  several  minutes 
they  thrust  and  parried  like  two  duelists  who  under- 
stood each  other  thoroughly.  As  far  as  Anne  could 
make  out  they  did  not  get  anywhere;  but  when  the 
Colonel  abruptly  arose,  declared  that  he  must  be 
off,  shook  hands  and  walked  out  with  his  stiffly  jaunty 
step,  Marian  poured  herself  another  cup  of  tea,  gave 
a  let-down  sigh  and  said : 

"  He'll  lend  us  the  money,  all  right." 

Anne's  eyes  opened  wide.  "  He  didn't  say  he 
would!" 

"  The  Colonel  never  commits  himself.  But  in  two 
or  three  days  he'll  come  across.  What's  the  matter, 
darling?  You  look  unhappy." 

"I  —  I  don't  exactly  like  it.  I  wish  we  could  have 
borrowed  the  money  from  some  one  we  —  we  know 
better." 

"  Oh,  I  know  the  Colonel  well  enough,"  declared 
Marian,  carelessly.  "  I  saw  a  great  deal  of  him  when 

38 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


I  was  Mrs.  Bragdon's  secretary.  He's  a  good  old 
sort,  though  I  don't  think  he's  a  Colonel,  really.  I 
fancy  the  head-waiters  gave  him  the  title.  But  he 
belongs  to  one  of  the  oldest  families  in  New  York; 
he's  in  the  right  things  much  more  than  you  and  I 
will  ever  be.  Oh,  yes,  he's  really  all  right,  if  you 
know  how  to  handle  him." 

"  But  I  don't  like  borrowing  money  from  a  man," 
said  Anne  uneasily.  "  I've  never  had  to  do  anything 
of  the  kind,  and  I  don't  believe  I  want  to  begin." 

"  You'll  never  succeed  in  business  if  you're  too 
fussy,"  said  Marian  calmly.  She  looked  at  herself 
in  the  mirror  of  her  vanity  case.  "  I  shouldn't  have 
eaten  those  almond  cakes.  All  you  have  to  do,  child, 
is  to  look  as  pretty  as  you  do  this  afternoon  and  be  a 
little  bit  nice  to  the  Colonel,  and  I'll  manage  the 
rest.  And,  by  the  way,  I've  got  another  perfectly 
ducky  idea:  over  the  shop  I  have  in  mind  there's  a 
little  apartment.  It  will  be  vacant  next  month. 
Suppose  we  take  it  and  set  up  housekeeping  there? 
We  could  have  a  cunning  little  maid,  and  the  whole 
thing  would  be  perfectly  spiffing,  I  think.  You  could 

39 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


take  some  of  your  furniture  out  of  storage  —  there's 
quite  a  decent  living-room,  with  an  old-fashioned 
fireplace.  Can't  you  see  it  —  chintz,  and  your 
colonial  mahogany,  one  of  those  stunning  new  bird- 
cages of  wicker,  flowers,  a  maid  in  a  cap  and  Swiss 
apron  —  heavens !  wouldn't  it  be  good  to  be  inde- 
pendent of  our  relatives,  Anne  ?  " 

Anne  gasped  that  she'd  have  to  talk  it  over  with 
Emma. 

"  Anne  Henderson,"  cried  Marian  impressively, 
"  you'll  never  get  anywhere  until  you  learn  not  to 
talk  it  over  with  Emma.  You  must  learn  to  express 
your  own  self.  That's  what  you  lack,  Anne  —  self- 
expression." 

"  I  believe  I  do,"  said  Anne  thoughtfully.  "  I  can 
see  that  I've  always  been  treated  like  a  child.  I'd 
like  to  prove  to  Emma  and  Roger  that  I'm  able  to 
take  care  of  myself,  perhaps,  even  to  make  a  big 
success.  I'm  not  saying  one  thing  against  Emma, 
but  I  am  tired  of  being  handed  about  and  dictated  to. 
I  should  like  to  be  free  and  a  success,  and  I  don't  be- 
lieve I  ever  can  be  as  long  as  I  live  with  Emma." 

40 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


"  Never,  darling !  "  agreed  Marian,  fastening  her 
veil.  "  We'll  run  over  and  look  at  that  apartment 
now.  We'll  take  a  taxi,  if  you  have  any  money." 


CHAPTER  III 

IT  required  another  tea  and  a  luncheon  with  the 
Colonel  before  Marian  and  Anne  really  saw,  as 
Marian  put  it,  the  color  of  his  money.  But 
when  he  did  hand  them  over  his  cheque,  he  did  it  so 
off-handedly,  so  genially,  as  to  make  Anne  forget  her 
distaste  for  the  whole  transaction.  In  the  meantime, 
Marian  (apparently  she  had  no  uncertainty,  or  else 
she  was  blithely  reckless)  had  leased  the  shop  of  her 
desire  and  the  little  apartment  over  it.  The  day  the 
Colonel  gave  them  the  cheque  Anne  told  Emma  what 
she  was  going  to  do. 

Emma  received  the  news  with  alarm  and  indigna- 
tion. She  used  her  sisterly  right  to  tell  Anne  the 
truth  about  her  practical  abilities  so  freely  that  Anne 
felt  more  than  ever  that  she  was  doing  right  in  leav- 
ing Emma's  roof.  There  was  one  detail  about  which 
she  was  not  quite  frank  with  Emma ;  she  let  her  sister 
believe  that  Marian  alone  was  finding  the  capital. 

42 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


"  There  is  one  consolation,"  said  Emma,  when  she 
had  exhausted  her  arguments  against  the  move, 
"  you're  not  putting  anything  except  your  time  into 
the  thing,  and  when  you've  come  an  awful  cropper 
with  that  Beal  girl  you  can  come  back  here.  You 
know,  Anne,  my  home  will  always  be  yours." 

Anne  tried  to  be  nice  and  grateful,  but  inwardly 
Emma's  assumption  that  she  would  be  a  failure  made 
her  seethe.  She  vowed  to  herself  that  if  by  any 
absurd  chance  she  should  fail,  she  would  not  come 
running  back  to  Emma.  Also  she  determined  not  to 
tell  Roger  what  she  was  doing  until  her  success  was 
assured.  Emma  grudgingly  agreed  not  to  give  her 
away.  It  was  arranged  that  Anne's  mail  should  be 
forwarded  to  her  new  address. 

Anne  had  as  much  of  her  furniture  taken  out  of 
storage  as  the  little  apartment  over  the  shop  called 
for,  she  removed  all  of  her  personal  belongings  from 
under  Emma's  roof;  and  when  she  herself  departed 
therefrom  in  a  taxicab,  it  was  with  the  sensation  of 
a  Columbus  who  has  at  last  acquired  his  ship  and 

43 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


heads  it  toward  a  new  world.  She  had  never  felt 
so  exhilarated  as  she  did  that  morning. 

She  and  Marian  then  put  in  two  or  three  busy  and 
exciting  weeks  arranging  the  apartment  and  the  shop. 
Marian  left  the  domestic  arrangements  to  Anne,  but 
she  herself  did  the  buying  of  the  Precious  Things 
which  were  to  make  up  their  stock.  To  be  sure,  she 
had  almost  no  knowledge  of  ceramics,  fabrics,  curios 
and  period  furniture.  But  she  possessed  plenty  of 
self-confidence.  Moreover  she  was  really  clever  with 
colors,  draperies  and  the  arrangement  of  things  so 
as  to  form  an  attractive  interior.  And  she  knew  how 
to  work  her  friends  to  the  uttermost.  In  borrowed 
motor  cars  she  cruised  up  and  down  the  Boston  Post 
road,  acquiring  here  and  there  bits  of  furniture,  pot- 
tery, copper  and  silver.  Some  of  it  was  good,  but 
most  of  it  was  ugly.  However,  all  antiques  looked 
alike  to  Marian.  In  the  shops  she  visited  she  picked 
up  a  smattering  of  the  j  argon  of  the  trade. 

"  Yes,  this  piece  is  really  rather  precious,"  she 
learned  to  say,  contemplating  dreamily  with  her  head 
on  one  side,  a  Hepplewhite  chair.  "  One  of  a  set 

44 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


from  the  Pendleton  collection.  You  will  find  it  in 
Lockwood's  book.  Had  a  tremendously  hard  time 
getting  it.  But  it  was  worth  all  my  trouble.  Hep- 
plewhite's  own  mark  underneath  the  upholstery." 

Then  she  would  retreat  a  step  and  regard  the  chair 
through  half-closed  eyes.  "  The  true  shield-back," 
she  would  murmur.  "  Happy  composition  —  very, 
very  happy !  " 

The  Colonel,  who  dropped  in  at  the  shop  often 
while  they  were  furnishing  it,  seemed  to  find  this  very 
amusing.  He  would  chuckle  and  glance  at  Anne, 
who  always  felt  a  bit  bewildered  and  uneasy  when 
Marian  and  the  Colonel  had  a  joke  between  them. 

"  When  you  are  selling  this  piece,"  he  would  say, 
pointing  with  his  stick  at  a  high-boy  that  had  just 
come  in  from  Fourth  Avenue,  "  you  must  put  your 
finger  here  — "  He  took  Anne's  hand  and  placed  her 
fingers  upon  a  bit  of  carving. 

"  Why  ?  "  she  asked  innocently. 

"  Because  then  you  won't  be  lying  when  you  say 
it  has  been  in  an  old  Salem  family  for  over  a  hundred 

| 

years." 

45 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


"  But  it  has  —  hasn't  it  ?  Marian  told  Mrs. 
Huntley-Sprague  this  morning  that  it  came  from 
Salem." 

Marian  laughed  immoderately  and  the  Colonel 
pulled  at  his  grizzled  mustache  with  the  dry  sound 
that  passed  for  mirth. 

"  That  top  drawer  is  genuine."  The  Colonel 
touched  with  his  stick  the  beautifully  carved  shell 
ornament  at  the  top  of  the  high-boy.  "  It's  the  only 
old  bit  about  the  piece.  That's  why  you  must  al- 
ways touch  it  when  you  don't  want  to  tell  a  lie." 

"  But  the  worm-holes,  the  old  look !  " 

"  Permanganate  of  potash  and  ammonia !  "  The 
Colonel  chuckled. 

Anne  looked  as  she  felt  —  astonished.  Her  ex- 
pression sent  Marian  off  into  another  gale  of  laugh- 
ter ;  the  Colonel  patted  her  cheek. 

Of  course,  she  had  always  known  there  was  such 
a  thing  as  faking  an  antique,  but  she  had  never 
thought  of  herself  as  being  a  party  to  this  sort  of 
shabby  fraud.  But  she  was  going  through  too  ex- 
citing and  absorbing  a  period  to  give  much  thought 

46 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


to  the  ethics  of  her  new  business  venture.  Besides, 
Marian  had  a  way  of  looking  at  her  with  a  mixture 
of  amusement  and  contempt  whenever  she  ventured  to 
question  her  proceedings  that  made  Anne  feel  small 
and  unimportant.  She  was,  just  now,  under  the 
spell  of  Marian's  cleverness,  her  audacity  and  su- 
perior knowledge  of  the  world.  She  said  to  herself 
that  if  Marian  did  and  said  some  things  that  were 
not  quite  "  nice,"  why,  one  must  expect  not  to  be 
too  finicky  if  one  were  to  succeed  in  a  competitive 
world.  On  one  point  only  did  she  take  a  firm  stand ; 
that  they  must  not  borrow  any  more  money  from  the 
Colonel.  This  is  what  Marian  wanted  to  do  when 
she  saw  the  end  of  the  Colonel's  cheque  in  sight.  The 
shop  was  really  too  bare,  she  held;  she  had  seen  a 
ducky  pair  of  Korean  portieres  that  would  be  per- 
fectly wonderful  draped  against  the  back  wall. 
Why  not  strike  the  Colonel  for  a  second  loan,  and 
do  the  thing  up  right? 

"  No,"  said  Anne  firmly,  somewhat  to  her  partner's 
surprise,  "  I  don't  think  we  ought  to  owe  anybody 

47 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


any    more    money.     Especially    the    Colonel,"    she 
added. 

"  Poor  old  Colonel!  Don't  you  like  him?  "  Mar- 
ian inquired,  carelessly. 

"  Not  very  well,"  Anne  admitted  truthfully. 
"  He  says  he's  old  enough  to  be  my  father,  but  I  wish 
he  wouldn't  stroke  my  cheek." 

"  Oh,  well,  don't  mind  him !  And,  for  goodness' 
sake,  don't  show  that  you  resent  it  —  not  until  we 
get  things  to  running  well,  anyway.  He  has  no  end 
of  friends  with  money.  He'll  send  them  to  us,  if  you 
don't  offend  him.  You  have  such  a  small-town  atti- 
tude toward  some  things,  Anne." 

*'  Perhaps  I  have ! "  Anne  admitted  meekly. 
"  But  we  mustn't  borrow  any  more  money,  Marian." 

"  All  right ;  but  that  means  I'll  have  to  get  the 
rest  of  my  stuff  on  Fourth  Avenue.  It  doesn't  mat- 
ter, much,  anyway.  No  one  ever  carries  more  than 
one  or  two  genuine  pieces.  I've  found  an  old  Swiss 
chap  who  can  imitate  anything  in  the  world.  Get 
Cleopatra  to  wash  that  old  blue  and  you  arrange  it 
in  the  new  cabinet,  will  you,  there's  a  dear?  I've 

48 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


a  dinner  engagement.  If  the  Colonel  comes  in,  just 
be  nice  to  him,  won't  you,  darling?  " 

Cleopatra  was  the  colored  maid  they  had  already 
engaged  to  run  the  little  apartment  over  the  shop. 
It  was  Marian's  plan  to  have  Cleopatra  serve  tea  in 
the  shop  on  certain  afternoons.  She  had  designed 
a  costume  for  her  —  after  Bakst !  Cleopatra,  with 
her  Oriental  cheek-bones  and  her  languid  movements, 
was  wonderfully  in  the  picture.  At  other  times  she 
wore  a  black  dress  and  white  apron  and  served  the  two 
girls  their  rather  sketchy  meals. 

At  last  the  opening  day  of  the  Shop  of  Precious 
Things  was  announced.  The  sign  in  mauve  and 
orange  was  hung  over  the  door;  the  orange  curtains 
were  draped  over  the  windows,  parted  just  enough 
to  reveal  one  or  two  of  the  few  genuine  objects 
Marian  had  acquired,  but  not  wide  enough  to  spoil 
the  mystery  beyond.  And  a  great  many  cards  were 
sent  out  to  Anne's  friends,  to  Marian's  and  to  a  few 
of  the  Colonel's. 

The  response  was  generous.  So  many  persons 
came  that  no  one  could  see  the  Precious  Things  nor 

49 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


hear  what  Marian  said  about  them  for  clatter  of 
tongues  and  tea-things.  But  the  afternoon  was  con- 
sidered a  great  success.  To  be  sure  no  one  bought 
anything,  and  the  guests  consumed  gallons  of  tea 
and  ate  or  trod  into  the  rugs  pounds  of  little  cakes. 
They  stood  about  and  gossiped  of  everything  but 
Precious  Things;  but  it  was  understood  they  would 
come  back  later  with  their  cheque  books.  Anne's  best 
friend,  Ada  Kent,  came  with  Emma.  They  looked 
a  trifle  askance  at  the  wondrous  orange  smock  Anne 
wore,  but  they  admitted  that  the  Shop  was  really 
distinguished.  And  after  all,  they  said  to  each 
other,  it  was  not  as  if  it  was  really  Greenwich  village 
Bohemianism;  there  was  Colonel  Hardenbrook,  and 
there  were  his  friends  1  Perhaps  —  who  could  tell ! 
Anne  might  really  be  going  to  make  a  success  of  this 
thing. 

And  Anne  was  tremendously  excited  and  happy. 
She  felt  that  it  was  one  of  the  most  triumphant  after- 
noons of  her  life.  She  felt  very  modern  —  was  she 
not  now  in  a  way  to  understand  what  was  meant  by 
the  economic  independence  of  women?  She  wished 

50 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


that  Roger  were  there  to  see  her  in  her  new  setting ;  if 
he  were  he  might  change  his  opinion  of  her  efficiency. 
It  seemed  to  her  that  she  stood  on  the  threshold  of  a 
business  success,  a  success  that  would  be  picturesque 
and  that  would  not  entail  too  arduous  an  effort. 
Moreover,  it  would  not  interfere  with  an  occasional 
social  diversion.  She  did  not  believe  she  would  care 
to  go  in  for  business  to  the  exclusion  of  everything 
else.  She  meant  to  keep  up  as  far  as  possible  with 
Ada  Kent  and  the  other  wives  she  knew  whose  pros- 
perous husbands  maintained  them  in  a  state  of  almost 
complete  idleness. 

After  the  guests  and  prospective  patrons  had  gone 
that  afternoon  the  Colonel  lingered,  helping  Anne  to 
collect  teacups.  Marian,  declaring  she  was  ex- 
hausted, lay  prone  on  an  Empire  sofa,  smiling  her 
mysterious  smile  and  looking  very  striking  in  a  mauve 
smock  embroidered  in  orange,  with  her  black  hair 
banded  low  on  her  forehead  and  a  pair  of  jade  ear- 
rings dangling  from  her  ears.  But  when  the  Colonel 
offered  to  take  them  out  to  dinner  she  accepted  with 
alacrity.  She  said  she  did  not  want  to  see  the  shop 

51 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


again  until  Cleopatra  had  swept  up  the  crumbs  and 
cigarette  ash.  Anne,  after  an  instant's  hesitation, 
accepted  also.  The  two  girls  ran  upstairs,  put  on 
their  prettiest  dinner  gowns  and  came  down  in  a  gale 
of  gayety.  They  drove  across  town  to  the  Colonel's 
favorite  Broadway  restaurant. 

"  But  to-night's  a  special  night,"  Anne  said  to 
herself,  to  still  the  uneasy  reflection  that  neither 
Emma  nor  Roger  would  approve  of  the  Colonel  or 
his  dinners.  "  In  business  one  can't  be  too  fussy !  " 

She  and  Marian  had  agreed  that  they  would  take 
turns  letting  each  other  off  for  social  engagements. 
But  the  shop  had  not  been  open  a  fortnight  before 
Anne  discovered  that  Marian's  interpretation  of  this 
agreement  was  very  liberal  —  in  her  own  favor. 
Marian  dined  out  a  great  deal,  which  meant  she  must 
rest  before  dressing,  and  so  Anne  gave  up  one  or  two 
bridge  teas  she  wanted  very  much  to  go  to.  Also 
Marian  made  many  mysterious  flights  which  she 
called  "  running  down  a  customer."  Anne  could  not 
remonstrate,  because  Marian  really  did  bring  in  sev- 
eral persons,  who  now  and  then  bought  something. 

52 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


Most  of  them  appeared  to  be  from  out  of  town,  from 
the  west,  Anne  surmised.  She  wondered  where  Mar- 
ian picked  up  her  variegated  acquaintances,  but  when 
she  asked  her  Marian  only  laughed.  Anne  suspected 
that  she  met  many  of  them  in  hotel  lobbies.  And 
one  day  Marian  appeared  with  a  large,  overdressed 
woman  in  tow,  who  divulged  the  fact  to  Anne  that 
she  had  become  acquainted  with  Marian  only  two 
days  before  in  a  dressing  room  of  the  Waldorf. 

"  It's  the  luckiest  thing  in  the  world  for  me  that 
I  met  up  with  her,"  Mrs.  Wesley  Hunter  confided  to 
Anne,  while  Marian  had  run  upstairs  for  a  moment 
—  Mrs.  Wes,  they  all  called  her  in  her  home  town, 
she  said.  "  I've  been  kicking  around  the  hotel  for 
three  weeks,  as  lonesome  as  a  houn'-dog,  not  knowing 
just  how  or  where  to  break  in.  Mr.  Hunter,  he  said 
to  me  when  we  come  east :  '  You're  going  to  take  it 
easy  for  the  rest  o'  your  days.  Just  cut  loose,  now, 
and  spend  money,'  he  says.  But  that's  easy  enough 
to  say.  I'm  not  such  a  fool  I  can't  see  that  a  body 
can  spend  money  all  wrong  in  this  town.  What  I 
want  to  know  is  how  to  spend  it  right !  " 

53 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


Anne  was  amused,  and  yet  something  in  the  ex- 
pression of  Mrs.  Hunter's  honest,  sunburned  face 
touched  her.  She  looked  hungry  for  help  in  a  world 
that  was  rather  like  a  Midas  feast  to  her.  She  had 
the  golden  touch,  but  the  things  she  bought  did  not 
feed  her.  Some  inherent,  shrewd  taste  there  was  in 
her  that  told  her  when  she  was  going  wrong ;  but  she 
did  not  have  the  training  or  background  to  guide  her 
right.  In  this  state  of  mind  she  had  fallen  into 
Marian's  clever  hands.  Anne  did  not  need  a  hint 
from  Marian  to  reconstruct  the  whole  situation: 
Mr.  Hunter  growing  suddenly  rich  out  of  the  war, 
bringing  his  wife  to  New  York,  establishing  her  in 
the  hotel  they  had  always  wanted  to  see,  and  then 
leaving  her  alone  most  of  the  day  while  he  was  about 
his  business.  Mrs.  Hunter  prowling  wistfully 
through  the  shops,  buying  a  quantity  of  the  wrong 
kind  of  clothes  in  the  first  plunge,  discarding  them 
for  others  only  a  degree  better,  growing  self-distrust- 
ful, giving  up  the  shops  for  the  corridor  of  the  hotel, 
where  she  sat  all  day  trying,  as  she  said,  to  get  a  line 

54, 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


on  the  right  way  to  spend  those  bills  Mr.  Hunter 
crammed  into  her  hands. 

Marian  gave  her  tea,  after  pulling  the  orange 
curtains  and  lighting  the  candles  cozily.  Mrs. 
Hunter's  homesick  soul  expanded. 

"  Mr.  Hunter  wants  to  live  in  New  York  winters 
and  go  back  home  summers,"  she  told  Anne.  "  We've 
sold  the  ranch,  anyway,  so  I  suppose  we  might  as 
well.  But  I  told  him  we've  got  to  get  some  place 
where  I  can  go  out  into  the  kitchen  and  cook  us 
up  a  meal  if  I  want  to." 

"  To  be  sure !  "  Marian  interrupted.  "  What  you 
want,  dear  Mrs.  Hunter,  is  to  make  the  right  kind 
of  a  background  for  yourself  and  Mr.  Hunter,  so 
that  you  will  be  ready  to  enter  into  the  social  life 
of  New  York.  But  you  must  get  the  background 
first,  of  course.  Once  you  have  that  the  rest  will  be 
simple.  In  New  York  one's  setting  has  everything 
to  do  with  one's  social  success  or  failure,  if  you  get 
me,  dear  Mrs.  Hunter !  " 

Anne  listened  with  amusement  and  some  astonish- 
ment to  Marian  pouring  into  Mrs.  Hunter's  eager 

55 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


ear  the  right  gospel  of  social  success  in  New  York. 
According  to  Marian  it  was  all  a  matter  of  back- 
ground, which  should  be  unique  and  yet  dignified,  in 
short  the  sort  of  background  she,  Marian,  could  help 
Mrs.  Hunter  to  acquire. 

"  I  guess  Mr.  Hunter  and  I've  been  too  busy  to 
think  very  much  about  what  sort  of  things  we've  had 
around  us,"  said  Mrs.  Hunter,  her  eye  roving  wist- 
fully around  the  shop.  "  But  there's  no  reason,  now, 
why  we  shouldn't  wade  in  and  have  a  real  fashionable 
home.  But  it's  hard  to  know  just  how  to  begin.  A 
hotel  ain't  homey,  and  you  can't  make  it  so,  I  tell  Mr. 
Hunter." 

"  No,  indeed ! "  asserted  Marian,  passing  Mrs. 
Hunter  the  toast.  "  You  must  take  an  apartment 
—  let  me  see !  —  possibly  on  Park  Arenue.  Then, 
as  you'll  be  furnishing  it  from  the  beginning  —  you'll 
want  to  do  that  of  course,  dear  Mrs.  Hunter,  or  you'll 
never  get  any  atmosphere !  —  you  can  strike  abso- 
lutely a  note,  if  you  get  what  I  mean.  And  in  New 
York  everything  depends  on  the  note.  Strike  your 
Dote  and  the  rest  is  easy !  " 

56 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


Mrs.  Hunter  gazed  at  Marian  with  a  kindling  faith 
in  her  honest  eyes,  while  Marian,  leaning  back,  half 
closed  her  eyes  and  seemed  to  be  contemplating  the 
magic  note  that  was  to  smooth  the  social  path  for  Mrs. 
Hunter.  Suddenly  she  sprang  up  with  one  of  her 
lithe  movements  and  darted  upon  a  curio  cabinet  in 
a  distant  corner.  It  was  a  singularly  ugly  cabinet, 
acquired  in  one  of  Marian's  first  unenlightened 
plunges.  It  was  so  undesirable,  in  fact,  that  the 
Colonel  had  advised  them  to  keep  it  in  the  darkest 
corner. 

"  Chinese  Chippendale !  "  cried  Marian,  with  a 
dramatic  gesture  towards  the  cabinet.  "  Your 
note!  " 

Mrs.  Hunter  made  an  uncertain  sound.  It  was 
plain  that  she  was  beyond  her  depth. 

"  We'll  make  your  drawing-room  Chinese  Chip- 
pendale! It's  tremendously  the  vogue  now.  Of 
course,  it's  also  rather  hard  to  get,  but  fortunately 
we  have  this  really  beautiful  piece  to  start  with. 
Then  there  is  this  settee — "  Marian  moved  across 
the  room  and  ecstatically  paused  before  a  sofa  the 

57 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


like  of  which  could  not  have  been  found  anywhere  in 
Chippendale's  own  book. 

"  Tnis  is  really  a  precious  bit.  It  came  from  the 
Thomas  B.  Sykes  collection,  but  really,  you  know, 
in  its  essential  spirit  it  is  wedded  to  my  cherished 
cabinet  there,  don't  you  think  so,  Anne  ?  " 

She  turned  to  her  ominously  silent  partner. 

"  I  think  they  are  both  ugly !  "  said  Anne,  bluntly. 
She  was  somewhat  surprised  at  herself,  but  the  words 
had  leaped  out.  However,  Marian  covered  the  awk- 
ward moment  with  her  most  silvery  laugh. 

"  She  doesn't  feel  in  harmony  with  Chinese  Chip- 
pendale," she  explained.  "  One  must  be  just  a  bit 
exotic  —  but  that's  why  it  is  so  perfectly  our  note, 
Mrs.  Hunter.  Your  drawing-room  will  be  striking, 
and  yet  orthodox,  too.  Take,  for  instance,  the  cab- 
inet against  this  drapery " 

She  snatched  down  a  yard  or  two  of  batik  and 
held  it  up  alongside  the  cabinet,  smiling  at  Mrs. 
Hunter.  And  Mrs.  Hunter,  full  of  tea  and  toast, 
and  mysteriously  excited  by  the  new  phrases,  colors 
and  objects  she  was  being  showered  with,  smiled  back 

58 


HIS  W1FF,$  JOB 


uncertainly.  Anne  found  herself  quite  arable  to  con- 
template Mrs.  Hunter  and  Marian  any  longf*-.  $he 
murmured  an  excuse  and  went  upstairs. 

When  Marian  joined  her  she  was  full  of  triumph: 
she  had  sold  Mrs.  Hunter  two  hundred  dollars'  worth 
of  Chinese  Chippendale,  as  well  as  several  pieces  of 
pottery  to  go  in  the  curio  cabinet.  She  was  to  have 
the  furnishing  of  the  drawing-room  in  the  new  apart- 
ment, as  well  as  the  dining  room  and  Mrs.  Hunter's 
bedroom. 

"  Isn't  she  delicious !  "  she  laughed.  "  I  didn't 
know  there  was  any  one  so  naive  left  in  the  world. 
And  the  hotel  kbbies  are  full  of  dozens  like  her  just 
now.  I  believe  I'll  open  a  How-to-spend  Bureau  for 
the  newly  rich !  " 

"  That  would  be  all  right  if  you  were  to  show  them 
how  to  buy  really  good  things.  But  that  cabinet, 
Marian !  You  know  it's  atrocious.  We  never  hoped 
to  get  twenty-five  dollars  for  it,  and  you  sold  it  to 
her  for  a  hundred  and  fifty." 

Anne's  voice  was  indignant,  and  the  smile  on  Mar- 
ian's face  gave  way  to  an  expression  of  annoyance. 

59 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


"  I  think  your  attitude  is  silly,  Anne !  We're  in 
this  for  all  we  can  get  out  of  it  —  which  has  been 
precious  little  up  to  now.  We  can't  afford  to  be 
high-minded,  my  dear!  And,  anyway,  look  at  it 
sensibly  —  if  we  don't  take  that  indecently  rich  per- 
son and  use  her,  some  one  else  will !  She's  bound  to 
have  a  lot  of  bad  stuff  unloaded  on  to  her  sooner  or 
later  —  and  I  can  do  it  so  artistically,  you  see ! " 

She  laughed  again,  her  high  good  nature  returning. 
Anne  regarded  her  partner  with  scorn  in  her  eyes, 
but  with  a  growing  sense  of  helplessness  in  her  heart. 
After  all,  Marian  was  right.  Some  one  would  pluck 
poor  Mrs.  Hunter,  and  Marian  would  do  it  painlessly. 
She  had  a  cleverness  that  would  make  of  Mrs.  Hunt- 
er's new  home  something  much  better  than  Mrs. 
Hunter  could  ever  achieve  with  the  aid  of  the  shops 
she  would  inevitably  drift  to.  There  would  be  some 
worthless  pieces  of  furniture  and  bric-a-brac  in  it 
—  Marian  was  already  figuring  how  much  of  their 
undesirable  stock  she  could  unload  —  but  the  whole 
result  would  be  infinitely  beyond  what  Mrs.  Hunter 
had  ever  had.  If  she  should  advise  Mrs.  Hunter 

60 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


against  buying  their  pseudo  Chinese  Chippendale  and 
their  rapidly  going  out  of  style  painted  furniture, 
she  would  anger  Marian  and  only  bewilder  Mrs. 
Hunter. 

She  sighed,  feeling  for  the  first  time  a  sense  of  de- 
pression as  she  contemplated  the  future  of  the  shop. 
Business  was  not  so  simple  a  process  as  she  had  taken 
it  to  be.  And  also,  she  was  beginning  to  be  a  bit 
weary  of  the  shop. 

She  grew  more  weary  of  it  during  the  next  month. 
Marian  more  and  more  left  the  charge  of  the  shop 
to  her,  having  now  the  excuse  that  the  Hunter  apart- 
ment required  her  attention.  She  spent  most  of  her 
afternoons  shopping  with  Mrs.  Hunter,  for  it  ap- 
peared that  she  had  not  only  taken  over  the  Hunter 
menage,  but  she  was  reforming  Mrs.  Hunter  sar- 
torially.  She  confided  gayly  to  Anne  that  she  was 
making  quite  goodly  sums  from  the  commissions  that 
certain  dressmakers,  furriers  and  hatters  gave  her. 
It  did  not  seem  to  occur  to  her  that  she  was  adding 
to  her  income  at  the  expense  of  the  Shop.  Having 

61 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


sold  Mrs.  Hunter  all  she  dared  from  the  Shop,  she 
acted  as  if  she  were  losing  interest  in  it. 

And  Anne,  never  having  in  all  her  life  been  tied  to 
a  fixed  routine,  came  to  hate  the  Shop,  to  feel  a  dread- 
ful ennui  as  she  sat  in  it  waiting  for  customers. 

For,  it  must  be  admitted,  there  were  very  few  of 
these.  Of  all  the  persons  who  had  drunk  their  tea 
and  consumed  their  cakes,  not  a  dozen  had  ever  come 
back  to  buy.  And  alarmingly  few  were  the  strangers 
who  exhibited  an  interest  in  Precious  Things.  Now 
and  then  one  of  Anne's  friends  dropped  in  to  chat 
with  her,  but  gradually  they  came  less  often.  Even 
Ada  Kent,  who  had  been  Anne's  most  constant  com- 
panion, came  only  once  or  twice  after  the  initial  tea 
drinking.  She  had  a  thousand  things  to  do,  she  said, 
shopping,  the  theaters  and  so  on,  and  it  was  very 
inconvenient  having  a  friend  who  could  not  go  every- 
where with  her  at  a  moment's  notice. 

On  the  afternoons  when  Anne  wanted  to  go  to  a 
tea  or  to  Ada  Kent's  bridge  club,  Marian  was  sure 
to  be  out.  So  Anne  sometimes  left  Cleopatra  in  the 
Shop  and  went,  whether  or  no.  And  Cleopatra,  not 

62 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


having  a  soul  for  Precious  Things,  would  turn  the  key 
in  the  lock  and  go  out  on  affairs  of  her  own.  Some- 
times on  these  afternoons,  what  might  have  been  a 
customer  came,  tried  the  door,  looked  surprised  and 
went  away,  never  to  return.  Marian  never  got  up 
before  ten  in  the  morning,  and  Anne  fell  into  the  way 
of  sleeping  late  herself.  More  and  more  they  left 
the  morning  tidying  up  of  the  Shop  to  Cleopatra. 

So  the  dust  gathered  on  the  Precious  Things,  the 
orange  curtains  faded  in  streaks,  the  mahogany  grew 
a  gray  film,  objects  sold  were  not  replaced.  And 
in  the  pigeon  holes  of  the  desk  behind  the  screen  in 
the  corner  bills  and  urgent  notes  began  to  collect. 
The  Shop  began  to  wear  a  bleak,  disconsolate  look. 

Anne  tried  not  to  let  herself  think  that  the  Shop 
was  not  flourishing,  and  her  one  great  dread  was  that 
Emma  would  find  it  out.  She  knew  Emma  would 
cry  "  I  told  you  so !  " —  an  exclamation  her  sensitive 
vanity  shrank  from  hearing. 

She  was  therefore  rather  relieved  one  day  when 
Emma  came  in  in  flustered  haste,  to  say  that  the 
Doctor  had  ordered  Henry  to  a  dry  climate  for  the 

63 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


spring.  Henry  had  developed  a  cough  that  worried 
her  greatly.  They  were  leaving  immediately,  before 
Henry  grew  worse. 

As  Emma  closed  the  door  behind  her,  Anne  felt 
a  queer  sinking  of  her  heart.  Emma  had  invited  her 
to  go  with  them,  but  the  invitation  had  been  rather 
perfunctory.  Anne  and  Henry  had  never  been  con- 
genial. Anne  would  not  have  accepted  the  invita- 
tion, anyway,  but  as  Emma  vanished  Anne  was  aware 
that  she  was  being  left  much  to  her  own  resources 
for  the  first  time  in  her  life.  The  thought  rather 
frightened  her.  But  she  propped  up  her  sinking 
spirits  with  the  reflection  that  there  was  Marian. 
With  all  Marian's  cleverness  they  would  sooner  or 
later  make  a  go  of  the  Shop  —  they  must ! 

Emma  had  not  been  gone  a  week  when  Anne  re- 
ceived the  greatest  shock  she  had  ever  had,  except 
for  the  night  when  Roger  had  told  her  he  was  going 
to  enlist.  Afterward  she  always  winced  when  she 
thought  of  that  afternoon  and  evening.  For  several 
days  Marian  had  appeared  unusually  restless,  flitting 
in  and  out  constantly.  Then,  one  morning,  after 

64. 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


having  received  a  telephone  call,  she  came  down  to 
the  Shop  where  Anne  was  listlessly  dusting. 

"  Anne,  I'm  going  to  leave  you,"  she  began  without 
preliminaries.  "  Mrs.  Hunter  is  going  to  Florida 
and  Bermuda,  and  she  has  invited  me  to  go  along. 
I'd  be  a  fool  not  to  take  the  opportunity.  We're 
leaving  to-night." 

"  To-night !  But,  Marian,  how  long  will  you  be 
gone?  " 

"  How  can  I  tell?  As  long  as  it  amuses  me,  prob- 
ably. Five  or  six  months,  perhaps." 

Anne  stood  with  a  pewter  teapot  in  one  hand  and 
the  dustcloth  in  the  other,  her  eyes  frozen  to  Marian's 
face. 

"Six  months!     But  what  about  the  Shop?" 

"  Oh,  the  Shop ! "  Marian  stretched  her  arms 
above  her  head  with  a  gesture  of  relief.  "  I  shall  be 
so  glad  to  get  away  from  it.  The  whole  thing  bores 
me  so !  But  you  can  run  it  alone,  nicely,  Anne,  with 
Cleo  to  help  you." 

Anne  set  down  the  pewter  teapot,  with  a  conscious- 
ness that  something  queer  and  sickening  was  happen- 

65 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


ing  to  her  heart.  "  Marian,  there's  one  thing  you 
seem  to  have  forgotten !  "  she  cried.  "  What  about 
the  Colonel  —  the  money  we  owe  him  ?  We  haven't 
paid  back  a  penny  of  it  yet,  you  know ! " 

Marian,  who  was  halfway  to  the  door,  laughed 
impatiently.  "  Dear  child,  don't  worry  about  the 
Colonel.  He's  worth  about  a  million.  Do  you  think 
he's  going  to  fuss  about  a  dinky  loan  like  that?  Be- 
sides, we've  amused  him,  no  end!  I  really  must 
hurry " 

"  But,  Marian,  I  don't  know  anything  about  how 
we  stand.  You've  done  the  buying  —  all  those  bills 
in  the  desk  —  what  shall  I " 

Marian  opened  the  door.  "  I  can't  stop  now, 
Anne,  with  all  my  pacLing  to  do.  But  I'll  write  you 
about  the  accounts,  or  maybe  there'll  be  time  before 
I  go.  I  must  fly !  " 

And  she  was  gone,  calling  to  Cleo  to  have  her 
trunks  brought  up  from  the  storeroom. 

All  that  afternoon  Anne  sat  in  the  Shop,  listening 
to  the  sound  of  Marian  and  Cleopatra  packing  in 
the  rooms  above.  The  maid  called  her  to  luncheon, 

66 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


and  finally  brought  her  down  a  tray  of  food,  which 
she  could  scarcely  touch.  The  rest  of  the  after- 
noon she  sat  perfectly  still,  or  she  walked  about  the 
Shop  picking  up  one  object  after  another  without 
seeing  it.  Once  she  went  to  the  desk  behind  the 
screen  and  began  frantically  looking  over  the  drifted 
bills,  but  they  only  added  to  the  dismay  that  was 
engulfing  her,  and  she  thrust  them  back.  Many  of 
them  had  never  been  opened.  She  had  received  a 
shock  that  made  it  difficult  to  think  or  act  coher- 
ently; her  thoughts  scuttled  here  and  there  like 
frightened  mice. 

She  knew  she  ought  to  go  upstairs  and  arrive  at 
some  sort  of  an  understanding  with  Marian,  but  she 
felt  utterly  helpless  before  the  thought  of  this  en- 
counter. She  knew,  now,  that  Marian's  hard,  glazed 
surface  was  quite  impenetrable.  Also,  the  prob- 
abilities were  that  Marian  knew  as  little  as  she  her- 
self about  their  finances. 

But  as  the  Shop  grew  dark,  she  finally  pulled  her- 
self together  and,  locking  the  shop  door,  started  up- 
stairs. She  was  half  way  up  them  when  the  door  of 

67 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


the  apartment  opened,  and  Marian,  hatted  and 
furred  and  looking  very  brilliant  behind  her  veil, 
came  running  down.  She  swept  Anne  into  an  em- 
brace that  drowned  her  cry  of  dismay. 

"  I'm  off,  old  darling !  Mrs.  Hunter  telephoned 
that  I  was  to  have  dinner  with  them  and  go  to  the 
train  from  there.  A  man  will  be  up  for  my  luggage 
and  trunk  in  an  hour.  It's  a  shame  to  leave  you  in 
such  a  whirl,  dear,  but  it  can't  be  helped.  You'll  find 
my  address  on  my  dressing  table.  Write  me  all 
about  everything  —  and  I'll  write  as  soon  as  I  ar- 
rive —  good-by,  Anne,  dear  —  sorry,  awfully  — 
good-by !  " 

She  was  gone  before  Anne  could  get  out  a  word. 
She  had  banged  the  outer  door  behind  her  while 
Anne  was  still  gasping.  Anne  saw  through  that 
dinner  engagement;  Marian  had  not  wanted  to  have 
a  final  talk. 

She  went  on  upstairs  and  tried  to  eat  the  dinner 
Cleo  had  arranged  on  the  table  in  front  of  the  fire 
in  the  living  room,  but  there  seemed  to  be  an  iron 
band  about  her  throat.  She  was  left  alone  with  a 

68 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


Shop  on  her  hands,  and  a  desk  full  of  unpaid  bills. 
And  Roger  was  in  France  and  Emma  in  Arizona. 

The  maid  took  the  dinner  things  away.  A  little 
later  she  said  good-night,  and  Anne  heard  her  close 
the  outer  door.  She  had  gone  home  for  the  night. 

Anne  still  sat  staring  into  the  fire  when  the  door- 
bell rang.  She  went  into  the  little  foyer  of  the 
apartment  and  opened  the  door.  The  Colonel  stood 
on  the  threshold  smiling. 

He  came  in  briskly  with  his  stiffly  jaunty  step,  dis- 
posed of  his  coat  and  stick,  and  walked  toward  the 
fire.  Anne  took  a  long  time  in  closing  the  door. 
The  Colonel  was  the  last  person  in  the  world  she 
wanted  to  see;  she  knew  she  was  utterly  unprepared 
for  this  moment  and  what  it  might  bring  forth. 

"  Marian  out  ?  "  asked  the  Colonel. 

Anne's  first  instinct  was  to  lie,  to  say  that  Marian 
had  retired  with  a  headache,  but  she  was  still  hesi- 
tating when  the  Colonel  looked  at  her  sharply  from 
under  his  brows  and  said : 

"  So,  she's  gone,  has  she?  " 

"  Yes !     How  did  you  know?  " 
69 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


"  Oh,  I've  been  expecting  her  to  bolt  for  some 
weeks." 

"  Ah !     Why  didn't  you  tell  me  ?  " 

The  Colonel  lifted  his  eyebrows.  "  Tell  you ! 
My  dear  child,  I  thought  you  knew  Marian  Beal  as 
well  as  I  do.  She's  as  irresponsible  as  the  wind. 
I  wouldn't  trust  her  across  the  street !  " 

*'  But  you  — "  Then  Anne  stopped  abruptly. 
It  had  been  on  the  tip  of  her  tongue  to  cry :  "  But 
you  lent  her  money !  "  She  stopped  because  of  the 
peculiar  smile  the  Colonel  bent  upon  her. 

"  My  dear  little  girl,"  he  said,  as  if  he  uncannily 
read  her  thought,  "  I  made  that  loan  to  you  —  not 
to  Marian." 


CHAPTER  IV 

FOR  half  a  moment  the  room  was  very  still. 
Anne  stood  clutching  the  back  of  a  chair, 
her   head    hanging.     After    observing    her 
shrewdly  for  a  few  seconds  the  Colonel  walked  across 
the  room,  took  her  hand  and  led  her  toward  the  sofa 
in  front  of  the  fire,  where  he  placed  a  cushion  behind 
her  and  then  seated  himself  in  the  opposite  corner. 
"  Now,  tell  me  all  about  it."     His  voice  was  sooth- 
ing and  matter  of  fact.     "  You've  got  your  finances 
all  tangled  up  and  don't  know  what  to  do  about  it 
—  eh?     Well,  just  remember  this,  little  friend — " 
he  leaned  a  bit  nearer  to  pat  her  hand  — "  there's  no 
financial  difficulty  that  can't  be  straightened  out,  if 
you  go  about  it  right." 

Anne  laughed  nervously.  "  I'm  afraid  I  don't 
know  how  to  go  about  it  right.  All  afternoon  I've 
been  thinking  and  thinking,  and  I'm  so  frightened. 

71 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


I  left  the  bills  to  Marian,  and  I  don't  believe  she's 
paid  a  third  of  them." 

"  Didn't  keep  any  books,  did  you?  " 

"  No,  Marian  said  it  wasn't  necessary,  and  I  tried 

—  a  little  —  but  I  didn't  know  how.     Things  got 
mixed  up,  somehow." 

"  No  partnership  papers  signed?  " 

"  Goodness,  no !  We  just  agreed  to  be  partners, 
that's  all." 

The  Colonel  chuckled  softly.  "  You're  a  great 
little  mouse.  But, never  you  mind  —  we'll  come  out  all 
right.  First  thing  is  to  sell  off  that  stuff  downstairs 
and  sublet  the  shop.  But  you  would  better  keep  on 
in  this  apartment.  It's  mighty  convenient  —  and,  by 
the  way,  get  rid  of  Cleopatra.  I'll  send  you  a  maid 

—  cheaper  —  friend  of  mine  recommends  her." 

*'  I  can't  keep  this  apartment,  or  any  sort  of  maid, 
even  a  cheap  one,"  Anne  interrupted.  "  I  haven't 
been  over  the  bills  Marian  left,  yet,  but  I'm  afraid 
I'm  snowed  under  completely.  I  ought  to  have  had 
it  out  with  Marian  before  she  left,  but  I  was  so  miser- 

72 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


ably  upset,  and  she  went  away  hours  before  I  ex- 
pected her  to." 

The  Colonel  chuckled.  **  She  would !  She  was  al- 
ways too  clever  for  you,  my  dear !  " 

Anne  was  so  wrapt  in  her  unhappiness  that  she  had 
not  the  spirit  to  resent  even  this.  She  went  on,  half 
thinking  aloud :  "  If  I  give  up  the  Shop,  and  I'm 
afraid  I  shall  have  to,  I'll  have  to  take  a  cheaper 
apartment,  I  suppose  ...  or  go  to  Emma  in  Ari- 
zona —  only  I  hate  telling  Emma.  I  haven't  even 
told  Roger.  Oh,  dear !  " 

She  leaned  back  with  a  weary  sigh.  The  Colonel 
smiling  benevolently,  but  watching  cautiously  every 
shade  of  expression  in  her  face,  said  nothing  for  a 
moment.  Then  he  leaned  toward  her  and  patted  her 
hand. 

"  Foolish  little  girl ! "  he  murmured.  "  Why 
worry  your  head  about  all  this?  Why  not  let  the  old 
Colonel  help  you  ?  " 

Afterward,  going  back  over  the  events  of  this 
evening,  Anne  knew  that  the  point  at  which  she  be- 
gan to  understand  what  the  Colonel  meant  was  the 

73 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


instant  when  he  slowly  drew  his  hand  across  hers 
and  asked  if  she  wasn't  going  to  let  the  old  Colonel 
help  her.  He  looked  at  her  sidewise,  showing  the 
points  of  his  yellowing  teeth  under  his  grizzled  mus- 
tache in  a  smile  totally  different  from  any  she  had 
ever  seen  on  his  face.  It  was  a  smile  at  once  sly  and 
conciliating,  but  it  was  full  of  meaning.  She  watched 
it  in  fascinated  silence. 

The  Colonel's  attitude  toward  her  had  always  been 
a  mixture  of  gallantry  and  fatherliness.  If  some- 
times she  had  shrunk  when  he  overdid  the  fatherly 
character,  she  thought  it  was  because  of  the  dis- 
taste that  the  very  young  have  for  senility.  She  had 
accepted  Marian's  appraisement  of  the  Colonel  — 
that  he  was  a  good  old  sort !  —  although  she  had 
never  quite  liked  him.  She  had  been  affable  to  him, 
because  she  had  taken  Marian's  point  of  view  —  the 
Colonel  was  a  sort  of  godfather  to  the  Shop !  She 
had  always  considered  him  rather  handsome.  But 
now,  as  she  looked  at  him,  he  struck  her  as  looking 
incredibly  mean  and  old.  He  wore  a  gardenia  in 
his  buttonhole.  She  got  the  cloying  scent  of  it, 

74 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


mingled  with  the  odor  of  Russian  tobacco  and  scented 
toilet  soap  that  always  hung  about  him.  She  set 
her  teeth.  Turning  her  eyes  away  she  gazed  down 
at  her  hands  clasped  tightly  in  her  lap. 

She  knew,  as  well  as  if  she  had  been  through  this 
sort  of  thing  before,  what  the  Colonel  was  trying  to 
convey  to  her  in  his  veiled  phrases.  Nothing  in 
her  own  life,  nor  in  the  lives  of  any  one  she  knew 
prepared  her;  but  some  instinct  deep  in  her  sent  up 
a  warning  signal  to  her  brain.  Every  nerve  in  her 
body  seemed  to  leap  awake,  to  stand  stretched  and 
waiting,  while  a  pulse  began  to  beat  in  her  throat 
smotheringly. 

But  she  sat  still,  listening  in  a  frozen  silence. 
And  her  one  dominating  sensation  was  not  of  fear  but 
of  a  tremendous  astonishment.  It  was  incredible  to 
think  that  a  thing  like  this  could  happen  to  her,  Anne 
Henderson,  rightful  heir  to  the  pleasant,  safe  ways 
of  life.  Such  things,  she  had  always  said,  happened 
to  women  who  were  weak,  or  wicked,  but  not  to  her, 
or  to  any  of  her  friends.  And,  if  by  any  mischance 

75 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


they  did  happen,  a  woman  of  her  class  would  deal  with 
them  royally,  like  an  outraged  queen. 

But  she  was  doing  nothing  royal  whatever.  She 
was  merely  sitting  still,  staring  at  her  hands,  while 
the  Colonel  went  on  dealing  out  veiled  phrases,  ten- 
tatively, always  ready  to  withdraw  them  at  the  least 
sign  of  restiveness  on  her  part.  The  burden  of  his 
conversation  was  to  the  effect  that  she  was  in  a  fright- 
ful hole,  that  everything  was  going  to  be  exceedingly 
unpleasant  for  her  unless  she  was  sensible  about  it; 
that  he  was  a  lonely  old  man  with  a  nature  too  fine  to 
be  contented  with  the  companionship  generally  of- 
fered him ;  that  she  was  a  flower  far  too  delicate  and 
subtle  to  go  unshielded  long;  that  all  he  asked  was 
the  happiness  of  helping  a  fine  little  woman  out  of  a 
situation  that  —  he  repeated  it  —  was  going  to  be 
confoundedly  unpleasant  for  her. 

He  mumbled  these  phrases  over  and  over,  feeling 
his  way,  while  Anne  sat  rigidly  still,  seeing  again 
that  sheaf  of  bills  in  the  desk  down  stairs.  Then 
the  Colonel  made  a  mistake  which  proved  that  he  had 
not  yet  learned  all  the  letters  in  the  feminine  alphabet. 

76 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


He  leaned  nearer  and  took  her  hand  in  his  two  yel- 
low, over-manicured  ones: 

"  Poor  little  mouse !  "  he  said  with  playful  tender- 
ness, "  it  needs  some  one  to  take  care  of  it  —  that's 
the  idea  —  some  one  to  take  care  of  it !  " 

A  nausea  of  repulsion  swept  over  Anne,  followed 
instantly  by  a  lightning-swift  rage.  She  sprang  to 
her  feet,  shaking  off  his  hand. 

"  That's  the  trouble  with  me  —  I've  been  too  much 
taken  care  of.  And  don't  you  ever  call  me  a  mouse 
again !  I  may  be  a  fool,  but  I'm  not  a  mouse !  " 

Then  to  her  dismay  she  leaned  her  head  against 
the  mantelpiece  and  began  to  sob  nervously.  The 
Colonel  stared,  blinking.  It  was  plain  that  he  did 
not  quite  know  what  it  would  be  safe  for  him  to  do 
next.  But  after  a  second  or  two  he  rose  and  cau- 
tiously patted  her  shoulder. 

At  the  touch  of  his  hand  she  stiffened  and  shrank ; 
her  sobs  ceased  instantly.  She  gave  him  a  long 
look,  with  eyes  that  were  very  wide  and  dilated  a  lit- 
tle. Then  she  walked  to  the  door,  set  it  open  and 
said  in  a  voice  that  shook  only  a  trifle: 

77 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


"  Do  you  mind  going,  now  —  please?  I  am  —  I 
am  very  tired." 

The  Colonel,  taken  aback,  rather  surprised  at  her 
sudden  firmness,  stared  at  her.  "  But  we  haven't 
gone  over  your  affairs  yet!  Don't  you  think  we'd 
better " 

She  shook  her  head,  and  as  she  did  so  she  tried  to 
smile,  for  she  was  thinking:  "  I  mustn't  offend  him. 
—  I  owe  him  money  —  how  awful !  " 

"  I  am  really  too  tired,"  she  stammered. 

The  Colonel  after  a  shrewd  stare  at  her,  assumed 
an  impersonal  kindliness.  "  Quite  right !  We  won't 
bother  about  things  to-night.  You  get  a  good  sleep, 
and  to-morrow  we'll  go  into  everything.  Suppose 
you  have  dinner  with  me  to-morrow  night  —  eh  ?  " 

"  Not  to-morrow  —  I  shall  be  —  be  awfully  busy. 
In  two  or  three  days  I'll  telephone  you.  I  must  — 
must  really  get  things  straightened  out,  first." 

With  this  he  was  obliged  to  leave.  She  closed  the 
door  after  him  and  stood  listening  to  the  sound  of 
his  footsteps  receding.  Then  she  turned  the  key 
in  the  lock  with  hands  that  shook  as  if  she  were  hav- 

78 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


ing  a  chill.  Wringing  them  together  she  stood  in 
the  middle  of  the  quiet  room  and  her  thoughts  cried : 
"  What  shall  I  do !  What  shall  I  do!  " 

She  ran  to  the  sofa,  threw  herself  down  and  wept 
as  she  had  never  in  all  her  life  wept  before.  For 
she  was  not  only  frightened,  she  was  humiliated. 
Her  self-esteem  was  shaken  to  its  foundation.  She 
told  herself  that  she  had  allowed  herself  to  be  made 
use  of  by  Marian  in  a  way  a  blind  kitten  wouldn't 
have  stood  for!  Her  vanity  smarted  under  the  re- 
flection. 

And  she  had  walked  with  her  eyes  open  into  an 
equivocal  position  which  moment  by  moment  was 
opening  up  to  her  various  frightening  possibilities. 
She  raged  at  herself,  crying  and  digging  her  fists  into 
the  pillow,  writhing  under  a  sense  of  fright  and 
shame  such  as  she  had  never  believed  she  could  feel. 

But  after  awhile  she  stopped  weeping  and  began 
genuinely  to  think.  And  her  thoughts  were  nothing 
like  any  thoughts  she  had  ever  had.  She  sat  up  to 
stare  into  the  fire,  and  she  saw  not  the  fading  embers 
but  herself  —  not  the  self  that  she  had  always  so 

79 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


complacently  accepted,  but  a  futile,  cowardly  and 
lazy  self.  One  bit  of  naked  truth  emerged  and 
struck  her  between  the  eyes :  she  had  known  from  the 
very  first  that  Marian  Beal  was  not  her  kind,  and 
she  had  known  that  they  ought  not  to  accept  the 
Colonel's  loan.  But  she  had  shut  her  ears  to  these 
inner  voices  because  she  wanted  to  get  away  from 
Emma,  because  of  a  mere  restlessness  that  demanded 
change  and  excitement.  And  now  she  was  going  to 
have  to  pay ! 

She  sprang  up  to  open  the  window,  because  it 
seemed  to  her  that  the  scent  of  gardenia  and  Russian 
tobacco  still  hung  in  the  air,  and  she  remained  at 
the  window  staring  out  at  the  dark  buildings  across 
the  street.  The  city  seemed  closing  in  on  her — , 
not  the  city  she  had  always  known,  full  of  pleasant 
activities,  but  another  —  a  city  of  sinister  forces, 
sordid  and  threatening,  which  no  "  nice v  woman 
ever  even  brushed  with  her  skirts.  She  thought  of 
unfortunate  women  in  the  sinister  city  whose  lives 
she  had  always  glibly  condemned.  Was  it  true  that 
they  were  all  vicious,  all  naturally  seeking  degrada- 

80 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


tion?  Could  it  not  be  true  that  some  of  them  had 
been  trapped,  driven  to  the  wail  by  circumstances 
that  were  too  strong  for  them? 

For  the  first  time  in  her  life  she  approached,  even 
if  afar  off,  the  viewpoint  of  that  dark  procession 
of  the  submerged.  And  for  the  first  time  she  was 
not  able  to  dismiss  these  pitiful  shadows  as  one  of 
the  unpleasant  subjects  one  does  not  think  about. 
For  she  seemed  to  stand  close  to  them,  to  feel  the 
cold  wind  of  their  passing,  and  with  terror  she  was 
beginning  to  recognize  the  forces  that  could  make 
them  what  they  were. 

She  pressed  her  hands  over  her  eyes  as  if  to  shut 
out  the  sight  of  something  horrible. 

"  I  could  run  away,"  she  thought.  "  I  could  pack 
to-night,  and  early  in  the  morning  I  could  find  some 
place  to  hide  in  until  I  could  get  some  money. 
Emma  would  send  me  some ;  I  could  go  out  to  Arizona 
to  join  her.  Thank  God  Roger  needn't  know  any- 
thing about  all  this!  I  must  keep  it  from  him, 
whatever  happens.  But  Emma  would  have  to  know 
—  and  yet,  need  I  tell  her  everything?  I  could  just 

81 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


tell  her  that  the  Shop  was  not  paying  —  we  have 
closed  it  for  the  time  being,  or  something.  And  I 
could  go  out  to  her.  But  if  there  are  debts  —  what 
can  I  do  about  them?  What  do  they  do  to  people 
who  run  away  from  debts  ?  " 

She  took  a  few  frantic  turns  about  the  room.  But 
finally  she  came  to  a  stop  in  the  middle  of  it,  despair 
in  her  face.  "  No,"  she  said  slowly,  "  that  won't 
do.  I  can't  run  away.  I  can't  get  rid  of  things 
that  way.  I've  got  to  face  facts.  I've  got  to  find  a 
way  out  for  myself." 

She  was  beginning  to  learn  an  elementary  lesson, 
painfully,  with  astonishment  and  revolt.  It  is  very 
seldom  that  a  consequence  can  be  shifted.  But  in  her 
easy  and  sheltered  life  there  had  never  been  a  time 
when  the  consequence  of  any  act  of  hers  could  not 
be  shared  or  shifted.  It  took  her  breath  away  now 
to  realize  that  she  stood  alone.  It  made  her  feel 
cold,  and  to  escape  from  this  chilly  sense  of  isolation 
she  began  to  run  over  in  her  mind  the  list  of  her 
friends.  Would  she  care  to  ask  even  Ada  Kent  to 
come  to  her  aid  ?  Among  all  the  women  she  had  had 

82 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


at  her  house,  with  whom  she  had  played  bridge,  sat 
on  committees,  dined  and  chatted,  was  there  one  she 
could  bear  to  go  to  in  this  perplexity  of  hers?  No, 
there  was  not  one.  The  friendships  she  had  made 
since  Roger  had  brought  her  to  New  York  were  not 
that  kind.  Beyond  Emma  she  had  no  relatives. 
And  she  knew,  now  that  she  came  to  consider  it 
closely,  that  the  sisterly  relation  as  interpreted  by 
Emma,  would  not  gracefully  stand  the  strain  of  the 
sort  of  confession  she  would  be  obliged  to  make  if 
she  asked  Emma  for  financial  aid.  Emma  would 
help  her,  but  first  she  would  exclaim,  and  then  she 
would  moralize.  And  in  all  probability  she  would 
tell  Roger,  just  to  convince  Roger  that  he  should 
have  taken  her  advice  and  stayed  at  home  to  look 
after  his  wife.  No,  it  would  almost  be  easier  to  ap- 
peal to  an  absolute  stranger  than  to  Emma. 

"  I  won't  tell  her !  "  she  thought.  "  Whatever  I 
am  in  for,  I  won't  tell  Emma !  " 

She  set  her  chin.  Taking  up  a  candle  she  went 
down  into  the  dark  shop,  with  its  smell  of  stale  in- 
cense and  the  perfumed  pastilles  Marian  had  been 

83 


so  fond  of.  Gathering  up  all  the  papers  in  the  desk 
she  brought  them  upstairs  and  spread  them  out  upon 
the  table.  After  which  she  made  herself  a  pot  of 
coffee,  and  with  this  at  her  elbow  she  plunged  in. 

Incredible  confusion,  heaped  up  signs  of  incom- 
petence, carelessness  and  extravagance.  There 
were  even  a  few  of  Marian's  personal  bills  among  the 
others.  It  appeared  after  the  first  superficial  ex- 
amination that  Marian  had  paid  cash  for  not  more 
than  a  third  of  their  stock.  The  remainder  had  been 
bought  on  credit,  or  it  had  been  acquired  by  Marian 
to  be  sold  on  commission.  There  were  half  a  dozen 
statements,  most  of  them  with  curt  notes  written  at 
the  bottom  of  them  from  the  men  who  had  cleaned 
and  polished  some  of  the  pieces  Marian  bought  from 
old  houses.  There  were  bills  from  the  gas  and  elec- 
tric companies,  from  the  women  who  had  made  the 
batik  draperies  for  the  Shop,  from  a  caterer  for 
the  very  cakes  they  had  served  at  the  opening  of 
the  Shop. 

It  was  two  in  the  morning  when  Anne  finally  fin- 
ished. The  papers  were  in  orderly  heaps,  on  a  long 

84 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


slip  a  memorandum  of  her  assets  and  liabilities.  The 
asset  column  was  very  brief:  a  check  for  fifteen  dol- 
lars in  an  unopened  letter,  a  few  pieces  of  furniture, 
a  tea  set  of  doubtful  Lowestoft,  a  few  bits  of  Shef- 
field silver,  all  of  which  Marian  had  paid  for.  The 
liability  column  was  much  longer.  She  added  it  up, 
and  then  she  added  to  the  result  her  share  of  what 
they  had  borrowed  from  the  Colonel.  She  leaned 
back  in  her  chair,  regarding  the  dreadful  total  with 
a  haggard  face. 

"  Now  I  know,"  she  thought,  "  what  a  man  feels 
like  when  he  fails  in  business." 


CHAPTER  V 

THE  week  that  followed  this  evening  was  like 
a  long  nightmare.  When  she  had  cashed 
the  fortunate  check  which  she  had  found  in 
the  littered  desk,  and  paid  off  Cleopatra,  she  had 
very  little  money  left.  She  had  not  yet  begun  to 
receive  Roger's  allotment  or  the  Government  allow- 
ance she  was  entitled  to,  and  she  had  dipped  rather 
too  liberally  into  her  cash  in  hand  two  weeks  before 
when  she  bought  a  new  velvet  suit  she  was  convinced 
she  could  not  do  without.  She  now  faced  the  prob- 
lem of  how  to  appease  the  most  insistent  of  her 
creditors,  and  above  all  how  to  find  the  money  to 
pay  off  her  debt  to  the  Colonel. 

It  was  this  debt  that  worried  her  more  than  all 
the  others  put  together.  It  was  not  that  she  was 
afraid  of  him,  but  he  had  aroused  in  her  such  a  sense 
of  physical  distaste  that  to  wipe  out  her  indebtedness 
to  him  was  as  necessary  as  to  wash  her  hands  or  to 

86 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


open  a  window.  She  did  not  want  to  see  him  ever 
again  until  she  had  the  money  in  hand  to  pay  him. 
She  had  often  felt  that  she  had  never  had  quite  all 
the  money  she  wanted  to  spend,  but  all  her  previous 
longings  were  mild  compared  to  the  frantic  need  of 
money  that  now  harassed  her.  She  was  in  a  mood 
where  she  would  have  cut  off  her  hair  if  she  could 
have  sold  it  for  a  large  sum.  And  she  had  all  the 
time  so  uncomfortable  a  sense  of  being  an  outcast, 
of  furtiveness,  a  sensation  that  was  not  soothed  by 
her  talks  with  her  landlord  and  her  creditors.  She 
had  a  vague  idea  that  perhaps  she  was  not  liable  for 
Marian's  share  of  their  debts,  but  she  did  not  have 
the  money  to  pay  a  lawyer  for  advice,  and  she  could 
not  bring  herself  to  haggle  with  her  creditors.  In 
this  dilemma  she  was  twice  at  the  point  of  writing 
to  Roger,  to  tell  him  the  whole  story  and  indulge 
herself  in  the  luxury  of  throwing  herself  and  her 
burdens  on  his  shoulder.  But,  as  it  happened,  there 
came,  within  twenty-four  hours  of  each  other,  two 
delayed  letters  from  Roger.  She  stopped  her  pack- 
ing to  read  them  eagerly,  and  when  she  had  read  the 

87 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


last  line  and  then  re-read  both  letters,  she  knew  that 
she  could  not  write  to  Roger  about  her  troubles.  For 
in  both  letters  Roger  had  said  over  and  over  that  the 
last  thing  he  thought  at  night  and  the  first  in  the 
morning  was  that  she  was  safe. 

"  I  can't  put  into  words,  dear,"  he  wrote,  "  what  a  comfort  it 
is  to  me  to  know  that  you're  with  Emma,  who  would  look  after 
you  if  you  were  to  fall  sick,  and  who  is  glad  to  give  you  a 
home.  Of  course,  I  know  old  Henry  is  a  bit  of  a  bore  with  his 
statistics,  but  you'll  put  up  with  him,  for  my  sake,  won't  you? 
I  know  it's  bromidic  to  talk  about  your  '  bit ' —  but  that  is 
it,  isn't  it?  Just  being  able  to  say  to  myself  when  we're  turn- 
ing in  over  here:  'It's  eight  o'clock  on  Riverside  Drive. 
They've  finished  dinner,  now;  the  lamps  are  lighted;  Henry 
has  disappeared  into  the  wing  chair  for  forty  winks,  and  the 
girls  are  knitting.  .  .  .'  just  to  be  able  to  shut  my  eyes  and  see 
that  picture  sends  me  off  to  sleep  with  a  comfy  feeling  I  can't 
describe.  I've  heard  other  fellows  say  the  same  thing,  that  they 
never  realized  before  they  left  home,  how  much  it  was  going  to 
mean  to  them  over  here  to  know  that  things  were  going  on  well 
back  there.  .  .  ." 

When  Anne  had  finished  these  letters  she  put  her 
head  down  on  the  edge  of  the  trunk  she  was  packing 
and  cried.  She  felt  as  if  the  last  prop  had  been  taken 
from  her.  And  Roger  seemed  to  her  so  far  away, 
so  absorbed  in  his  adventure.  To  be  sure,  he  chafed 
at  being  kept  in  England  when  he  had  hoped  they 

88 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


would  be  sent  at  once  to  France;  they  drilled  and 
worked  in  a  sea  of  mud  and  there  had  not  been  a 
sunshiny  day  since  he  landed.  But  she  could  read 
between  the  lines  a  boyish  zest  in  what  he  was  doing. 
He  had  burst  completely  out  of  one  uniform  and  had 
not  felt  so  well  in  years.  Their  welcome  in  London 
had  been  something  never  to  be  forgotten:  he  had 
seen  King  George  and  had  been  handed  cakes  and 
tea  by  a  Countess  in  the  Green  Park.  And  now  all 
he  asked  was  to  go  on  about  the  business  for  which  he 
had  enlisted!  But  he  would  enlist  all  over  again,  if 
he  had  the  chance,  and  she  was  not  to  worry  about 
him,  and  she  was  to  have  a  good  time  and  take  care 
of  herself  .  .  . 

"  No,  I  can't  tell  him,"  Anne  said  to  herself  as 
she  wiped  her  eyes.  "  I've  just  got  to  muddle 
through,  somehow." 

The  next  day  she  spent  in  interviewing  dealers,  for 
she  had  decided  to  sell  the  Sheraton  sideboard  she 
and  Roger  had  found  in  one  happy  trip  through 
New  England.  It  was  the  only  piece  she  possessed 
that  would  bring  in  a  sufficiently  large  sum  to  pay 

89 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


off  the  Colonel.  It  was  heartbreaking  to  part  with 
this  piece,  for  Roger  had  particularly  liked  it;  but 
she  scarcely  thought  about  that  side  of  the  transac- 
tion in  her  desperate  haste.  Twice  already  the 
Colonel  had  telephoned  her,  and  each  time  she  had 
told  him  she  was  altogether  too  busy  to  dine  with 
him.  But  the  day  that  she  received  a  check  for  the 
sideboard  she  telephoned  him  to  ask  if  he  would 
meet  her  in  the  Rose  Room  of  a  nearby  hotel. 

He  assented  eagerly,  and  as  she  entered  from  the 
lobby  of  the  hotel  he  came  forward  to  meet  her,  smil- 
ingly. 

"Where  on  earth  have  you  been?  "  he  demanded. 
"  I  called  last  night  —  no  lights  —  no  answer  when 
I  rang!  I  was  afraid  you  were  ill.  You'll  have 
some  lunch  with  me  now?  " 

She  shook  her  head.  "  I  only  wanted  to  give  you 
this." 

She  put  into  his  hand  a  roll  of  banknotes,  at  which 
he  stared  in  astonishment.  "What's  this?"  he 
stammered. 

"  It's  my  share  of  our  debt  to  you.  Doubtless, 
90 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


legally,  I'm  responsible  for  Marian's  half,  but  morally 
I  don't  consider  myself  so  —  since,  as  you  told  me, 
you  knew  she  was  not  to  be  depended  on.  Will  you 
please  sign  this  ?  " 

"  But  —  but  what  have  you  done?  How  have  you 
arranged " 

"  I  have  sold  some  of  my  things  and  got  the 
dealers  to  take  back  most  of  the  stuff  in  the  shop  — 
at  least  the  things  that  weren't  paid  for.  It  was 
the  only  thing  they  could  do ! " 

"  But,  my  dear  little  girl,  how  unnecessary ! 
Why  didn't  you  let  me " 

"  Will  you  sign  this,  please?  " 

She  pushed  toward  him  the  receipt  she  had  made 
out.  He  stared  from  the  paper  to  her  face.  Then 
with  a  shrug  of  his  shoulders  he  signed.  She  folded 
the  paper  into  her  purse  and  rose,  ignoring  the  hand 
he  put  out  to  detain  her. 

"  But  I  shall  see  you,"  he  exclaimed.  "  Surely 
there  is  something  I  can  do  for  you.  By  Jove !  I 
don't  want  to  see  you  heckled  by  creditors  when  the 
whole  thing's  been  no  fault  of  yours!  Won't  you 

91 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


have  dinner  with  me  to-night?  You  have  to  eat,  you 
know !  " 

"  I've  been  lucky  enough  to  find  a  tenant  who 
will  take  the  Shop  off  my  hands  almost  immediately. 
The  apartment,  also  I  have  managed  to  sublet.  So, 
of  course,  I'm  tremendously  busy.  I  shall  probably 
not  see  you  again,  for  I  may  go  to  join  my  sister. 
Yes,  it  will  be  delightful  for  the  spring.  I  really 
must  hurry  away,  now.  Good-by." 

She  turned  away,  having  successfully  overlooked 
his  extended  hand,  and  walked  quickly  out  of  the 
hotel.  Her  cheeks  were  burning,  she  felt  an  exhila- 
rated sense  of  relief.  But  when  she  had  walked  a  block 
or  two  her  pace  slowed  and  her  heart  sank.  For, 
after  all,  she  had  lied;  she  could  not  have  gone  to 
Emma  without  growing  wings  —  unless  she  went  into 
the  nearest  telegraph  office  and  wired  Emma  for 
money.  Should  she  do  that?  Should  she  make  a 
meal  of  her  pride  and  confess  to  Emma  that  she  had 
failed?  That  would  mean  confessing  also  to  Roger. 
Now  that  she  had  sold  their  beloved  sideboard,  Roger 
would  sooner  or  later  have  to  have  some  sort  of 

92 


explanation.  Her  pride  winced  at  the  thought. 
Roger  had  hinted  more  than  once  that  she  was  none 
too  competent  —  what  would  he  think  of  her  now? 

She  reached  the  Shop,  unlocked  it  and  went  in. 
It  was  a  sad  place,  dimmed  by  the  drawn  orange 
curtains,  dusty  and  smelling  of  stale  incense.  She 
knew  she  should  hate  the  smell  of  pastilles  to  her  dy- 
ing day.  Making  her  way  among  the  few  pieces  of 
furniture  that  still  remained  to  be  disposed  of,  she 
climbed  the  stairs  to  the  rooms  above.  Here,  too, 
there  were  all  the  dreary  signs  of  departure,  half- 
packed  trunks,  a  dreadful  gap  where  the  Sheraton 
sideboard  had  stood,  tables  and  chairs  shrouded 
ready  to  go  to  the  storage  house.  She  felt  as  if  there 
were  no  spot  on  earth  that  was  hers.  Regarding 
herself  in  a  dusty  mirror  with  a  sort  of  incredulous 
astonishment  she  thought: 

"  Well,  you  have  come  a  cropper,  Anne  Hender- 
son !  And  what  are  you  going  to  do  next  ?  " 


CHAPTER  VI 

IN  the  next  few  days  Anne  Henderson  learned  that 
as  an  economic  unit  in  this  busy  world  she  ranked 
somewhere  near  the  bottom.     For  after  the  day 
when  she  had  seen  the  Colonel  and  paid  off  her  debt 
to  him  her  courage  took  a  turn  for  the  better.     That 
night  had  marked  the  ebb-tide  of  her  spirit ;  the  next 
morning  she  arose  with  a  determination  to  give  her- 
self   another    chance.     She   had    the    bouyancy    of 
youth;   moreover    she   had    the    intrepidity    of   ig- 
norance. 

"  I  am  not  really  stupid,"  she  said  to  herself,  as 
she  made  her  coffee  in  the  partly  dismantled  kitchen, 
"  I  have  a  few  good  clothes  left,  I  have  a  good  man- 
ner, I  am  rather  good  to  look  at.  Why  shouldn't 
I  find  something  to  do  that  won't  be  too  difficult, 
that  won't  take  up  all  my  time,  and  will  pay  my  way 
until  Roger  comes  back  ?  " 

94 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


She  was  not  aware  that  this  was  the  ideal  of  every 
dilettante,  the  sure  short  cut  to  mediocrity.  She 
wanted  some  of  the  advantages  of  the  butterfly,  with 
the  compensation  of  the  worker.  She  had  yet  to 
learn  the  meaning  of  work  for  work's  sake,  and  she 
had  no  definite  ambition  of  any  sort.  Her  job  had 
been  matrimony,  and  now  it  was  taken  away  from  her, 
at  least  for  the  time  being. 

There  were  still  a  few  tiresome  details  to  attend 
to,  her  furniture  to  be  sent  back  to  storage,  and 
the  half  dozen  pieces  of  furniture  that  remained  in 
the  Shop  to  be  sold  to  the  best  advantage  possible. 
These  tasks  took  up  her  entire  attention  for  several 
days.  She  had  decided  to  take  a  small,  furnished 
apartment  for  a  month.  By  that  time  her  allow- 
ance and  allotment  would  have  arrived,  and  she 
would  have  made  up  her  mind  what  she  wanted  to  do. 
When  Emma  went  to  Arizona,  she  had  thriftily  rented 
her  apartment  to  an  acquaintance,  so  Anne  knew 
that  when  the  new  tenant  took  possession  of  her  own 
present  rooms  she  would  be  literally  without  a  home. 

She  spent  three  days  tramping  through  the  neigh- 
95 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


borhoods  she  felt  would  be  suitable  for  her  to  live 
in,  interviewing  agents  and  looking  at  apartments, 
her  spirits  sinking  before  the  discouraging  evidence 
that  a  small,  well  furnished  apartment  in  what  she 
considered  the  right  locality  would  cost  far  more 
than   she  could   afford.     The   month's   rent   in   ad- 
vance would  leave  her  for  food  about  what  she  had 
been  in  the  habit  of  spending  for  flowers  for  her 
table.     And  what  if  before  the  end  of  the  month  her 
allowance  did  not  come?     She  felt  dismay  creeping 
over  her.     It  was  at  the  end  of  a  long  day's  search 
that,  returning  to  her  own  rooms,  she  looked  down 
a  cross  street  in  the  Fifties  and  saw  the  sign :     Fur- 
nished Rooms.     It  was  in  a  block  of  old  brownstone 
houses.     Some  of  them  had  had  their  basements  con- 
verted into  French  laundries  or  tailor  shops,  and 
there  was  a  brewery  which,  as  if  it  read  the  hand- 
writing on  the  wall,  already  had  its  windows  boarded 
up.     She  felt  a  strong  distaste  for  that  particular 
block,  but  this  was  no  time  to  be  fastidious.     In  two 
days  she  would  be  obliged  to  give  up  the  Madison 

96 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


Avenue  apartment.  She  rang  the  bell  under  the 
Furnished  Room  sign. 

A  woman  in  a  dusting  cap,  whose  brown  eyes- 
looked  as  if  nature  had  meant  them  to  be  kind  but  life 
had  taught  them  to  be  suspicious,  showed  her  a  room 
up  two  flights,  at  the  back  of  the  house. 

"  Fer  yerself  alone  ?  "  she  inquired,  hesitating  be- 
fore she  mounted  the  stairs,  her  suspicious  eyes  on 
Anne's  pretty  face. 

"  For  myself  alone,"  Anne  sighed.  Then  an  in- 
stinct told  her  frankness  would  be  best.  "  My  hus- 
band is  in  the  Army.  I  have  to  give  up  my  apart- 
ment and  live  more  cheaply.  If  you  would  like  a 
reference " 

She  hesitated,  for  she  did  not  know  whether  she 
wanted  to  refer  this  woman  to  any  of  her  friends. 
But  the  woman  saved  her  by  giving  a  hard  laugh. 
'*  I  don't  never  need  no  references,  as  long  as  the 
room  rent  is  paid  in  advance  every  Saturday  night. 
And  if  one  of  my  roomers  don't  behave  themselves, 
I  can  'tend  to  that  pretty  quick !  " 

The  room  proved  to  be  fairly  decent,  although 
97 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


it  had  a  heartrending  green  iron  bed,  and  a  red 
Brussels  carpet.  But  the  carpet  was  mercifully 
faded.  The  window  curtains  were  fresh,  although 
gray-white  from  much  laundering.  There  was  the 
musty  smell  of  a  room  that  has  been  closed  before 
being  quite  aired  after  the  last  occupant.  The  wo- 
man explained  that  they  were  all  women  on  that 
floor,  and  there  were  two  bathrooms  among  them. 
Anne  shuddered  as  she  thought  of  those  two  bath- 
rooms. She  asked  to  see  them.  They  were  not  so 
bad  as  she  had  expected.  The  etiquette  of  them  was 
hinted  at  by  a  can  of  cleanser  on  the  edge  of  the 
tub,  with  the  succinct  note  pinned  to  the  wall  above 
it :  "  Use  this  for  the  sake  of  the  next  one ! " 

Anne  read  this  absent-mindedly,  for  she  was  busy 
making  a  calculation  in  her  head.  If  she  took  this 
room,  she  might  be  uncomfortable,  but  at  any  rate 
she  would  feel  safe  until  her  allowance  came,  even  if 
she  did  not  find  anything  to  do.  And,  after  all, 
nobody  need  know  her  address  except  the  post-of- 
fice people.  She  paid  the  woman  a  week's  rent  and 
took  a  receipt. 

98 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


Next  day  she  took  possession.  The  first  thing 
she  did  after  unpacking  a  few  necessary  articles  of 
clothing,  was  to  sit  down  with  a  newspaper  and  to 
read,  for  the  first  time  in  her  life,  the  "  Help  Wanted 
—  Female  "  columns. 

When  she  had  finished,  she  laid  down  the  paper  and 
stared  hard  at  the  dingy  wallpaper  behind  her  bed. 
She  had  not  dreamed  there  could  be  in  all  the  world 
so  inexorable  a  demand  for  experience  —  also  for 
references.  It  occurred  to  her  that  she  had  neither. 
After  she  had  read  the  columns  again,  she  found 
she  had  gleaned  a  scant  half  dozen  that  might  fit 
her  case,  from  the  two  hundred  positions  waiting  to 
be  filled. 

Next  morning  she  started  out  to  make  her  first 
application  for  a  job.  The  advertisement  she  an- 
swered called  for  a  young  woman  of  good  address 
to  act  as  Field  Secretary  in  the  Club  Department 
of  a  large  Corporation.  She  had  not  the  slightest 
idea  what  were  the  duties  of  a  Field  Secretary,  but 
she  was  certain  she  had  a  good  address ;  so  it  was 
with  a  certain  blitheness  of  spirit  that  she  entered 

99 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


a  small  waiting-room  and  gave  her  name  to  a  polite 
young  man. 

She  was  sixth  in  a  row  of  eight  women  waiting 
for  that  position.  Just  ahead  of  her  was  a  girl  in 
a  severe,  well-fitting  black  cloth  suit,  low-heeled  rus- 
set shoes  and  a  mannish  little  hat.  As  this  young 
person  waited  she  improved  the  shining  hour  with  a 
book  on  Commercial  Spanish.  Fifteen  minutes  after 
she  had  been  shown  into  the  interviewing  room,  the 
polite  young  man  thanked  the  waiting  row  and  told 
them  they  could  go;  the  position  had  been  filled. 

"I  knew  that  girl  would  get  it,"  thought  Anne, 
making  a  mental  note  of  the  low-heeled  russet  shoes 
and  the  Commercial  Spanish.  "  She  looked  as  if 
she  had  earned  her  living  from  the  cradle." 

After  that  she  answered  an  advertisement  for  a 
social  worker  for  orphan  children,  but  lost  inter- 
est when  she  found  she  was  to  live  as  well  as  work 
with  the  orphans.  She  also  offered  herself  at  a 
Settlement  House,  where  she  found  to  her  surprise 
that  Settlement  workers  have  to  be  specially  trained 
nowadays.  Next  she  applied  at  a  mail  order  house 

100 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


and  came  away  horrified  when  she  learned  what  the 
wages  were.  "  I  couldn't  live  on  that !  "  she  told 
herself. 

At  other  places  also  she  discovered  that  inexperi- 
ence can  be  bought  cheap.  Her  good  appearance 
was  actually  against  her.  Every  one  seemed  look- 
ing for  girls  not  over  seventeen,  who  could  be  readily 
broken  in  to  the  job,  and  Anne  did  not  look  the 
part.  Forewomen  received  her  suspiciously;  one  of 
them  asked  her  if  she  was  writing  a  book.  She  came 
near  getting  a  position  in  a  Woman's  Exchange, 
until  she  confessed  that  she  knew  very  little  about 
salesmanship. 

It  was  now  late  in  the  afternoon.  She  was  more 
tired  than  she  ever  remembered  being  in  her  life,  and 
having  lunched  on  a  sandwich  and  a  cup  of  cocoa  at 
a  soda  fountain,  she  was  very  hungry.  Beset  by  a 
sudden  overpowering  sense  of  loneliness  she  went 
into  a  telephone  booth,  called  up  Ada  Kent  and  in- 
vited herself  to  dinner  with  her  and  Sam. 

"  My  dear ! "  came  back  Ada's  voice.  "  I'm  so 
sorry,  but  we're  dining  out  to-night.  Can't  you 

101 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


come  to-morrow  night  —  no,  to-morrow  night's 
taken  —  how  about  Sunday  ?  Tell  you  what  —  I'll 
call  you  up  at  the  Shop  when  I've  had  time  to  find 
out  what  Sam's  engagements  are." 

"  Don't  call  up  the  Shop,"  returned  Anne  faintly. 
"  I've  sold  it.  Marian  was  called  away  and  we  — 
we  both  got  rather  tired  of  the  whole  thing.  I'm 
not  staying  there  at  all,  now." 

"But  where  are  you  living?  Emma  hasn't  come 
back,  has  she  ?  What  are  you  doing,  Anne  ?  " 

61  Oh,  I'm  just  resting,  now!  " 

"  Well  — :  "  Ada's  tone  indicated  that  her  thoughts 
had  already  flown  somewhere  else  — "  come  and  see 
me,  sometime,  won't  you?  " 

Anne  walked  out  of  the  drug  store  with  the  sensa- 
tion of  being  a  forlorn  ghost.  Ada  had  not  even 
asked  for  her  address.  She  seemed  to  have  dropped 
out  of  her  own  world,  and  there  was  no  place  for 
her  in  any  other.  The  very  city  had  become  strange 
to  her.  Her  wanderings  had  left  her  among  the  loft 
buildings  of  lower  Fifth  Avenue.  Out  of  these  build- 
ings and  from  all  the  side  streets  began  to  pour  the 

102 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


great  alien  horde  of  garment  workers.  The  black 
tide  of  them  set  eastward  across  town.  From  a 
shelter  of  a  doorway  she  stood  watching  them  with 
unhappy  eyes.  She  noted  first  with  distaste  their 
stunted  size,  men  and  girls  alike,  and  then  the  cheap- 
ness of  their  clothes,  the  efforts  of  the  girls  to  catch 
the  style  of  the  minute,  the  black  stubble  that  ap- 
peared common  to  every  male  chin,  and  their  crude 
voices  as  they  jostled  past  her.  She,  who  was 
American  of  the  oldest  American  stock,  sheltered 
all  her  life  according  to  the  best  ideal  of  the  Ameri- 
can man,  felt  infinitely  superior  to  these  underbred 
aliens.  And  at  the  same  time  a  voice  inside  her 
said: 

"  These  girls  have  got  work.  See  how  sturdily 
they  step  out,  how  gay  they  are.  How  do  they  man- 
age to  keep  themselves  so  neat?  Could  you  do  it? 
Could  you  go  to  a  strange  country,  learn  the  lan- 
guage, get  a  job,  and  laugh  the  way  these  girls  are 
laughing?  Could  you  pick  up  the  styles  of  that 
country,  the  very  slang,  make  yourself  a  home,  and 

103 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


go  back  to  it  at  night  swinging  along  the  way  these 
girls  are  doing?  " 

She  turned  away  with  a  shiver.  "  I  believe  I'll 
telegraph  Emma  to-morrow,"  she  thought. 

But  the  next  morning  some  of  her  buoyancy  had  re- 
turned. After  going  over  the  advertisements  in  the 
morning  paper,  she  walked  across  town  to  a  small 
and  rather  exclusive  cloak  and  suit  firm  on  Fifth 
Avenue.  When  she  got  there  the  position  adver- 
tised had  just  been  filled,  they  told  her,  but  would 
she  care  to  consider  one  as  a  model  in  the  evening 
wrap  department?  The  manager  appeared  to  ap- 
preciate her  hair  and  her  good  carriage.  Anne  hesi- 
tated. She  most  certainly  did  not  want  to  be  a 
model,  but,  on  the  other  hand,  neither  was  it  pleasant 
to  contemplate  trying  to  get  along  on  the  money  she 
had  until  her  check  c^me  from  the  Government. 
With  a  feeling  that  perhaps  this  was  her  best  chance, 
she  accepted  the  position. 

She  was  immediately  taken  in  charge  by  a  woman 
called  Madame  Irene,  who  was  as  lean  as  a  pencil  in 
her  black  silk  dress  that  fitted  her  like  a  sheath  from 

104 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


her  chin  to  her  ankles.  Her  hair,  too  much  henna-ed, 
was  banded  in  metallic  waves  across  her  forehead  and 
done  in  a  Greek  knot  at  the  back.  Anne  thought 
her  a  dreadful  person,  with  her  imitation  French  ac- 
cent, but  there  was  a  certain  authority  about  Madame 
Irene  that  made  Anne  feel  meek.  Leading  Anne  to 
a  dressing-room  she  made  her  put  on  a  straight, 
severe  gown  of  pale  gray,  which  was  a  sort  of  uniform 
for  the  models.  It  was  of  some  thin  stuff  that  fell 
in  soft  folds.  Cut  a  little  low  in  the  neck,  and  sup- 
plemented by  pale  gray  silk  stockings  and  slippers, 
it  was  demurely  becoming.  Throwing  a  flaming 
flamingo-like  evening  wrap  over  Anne's  shoulders 
Madame  Irene  said  briefly :  "  Sit  down.  Walk 
around." 

"No!  Not  like  that!  Ferget  yerself ! "  There 
being  no  customer  within  hearing  distance,  Madame 
Irene  took  off  her  French  accent  and  lapsed  into  one 
more  homelike.  "  Don't  act  as  if  y'  wanted  to  hide 
behind  that  screen.  Remember,  y're  just  coming 
into  the  opera,  and  that's  the  most  stunning  coat  in 
the  woild.  Walk  kind  of  languid,  but  not  indiffer- 

105 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


ent.  Remember  this,  dearie :  half  the  customers  in 
our  evening  wrap  department  bring  a  man  with  'em. 
It's  the  man  you've  got  to  knock  down  with  that 
wrap.  Now  watch !  " 

She  swept  the  wrap  from  Anne's  shoulders,  and 
placed  two  chairs  near  each  other.  "  That's  the 
lady !  "  she  indicated  the  right  hand  chair,  "  and  this 
is  her  friend.  He's  probably  old  and  half  color- 
blind, but  he  won't  miss  a  move  of  yours.  Agnes !  " 
A  girl  in  gray  came  forward.  "  You're  selling  this 
coat.  I'm  the  model." 

Two  more  girls  in  gray  came  out  of  the  dressing- 
room  and  drew  near  with  expectant  smiles.  "  She's 
as  good  as  the  theater ! "  laughed  one  of  them. 

"  Now,  Agnes ! "  said  Irene,  then  withdrew  up 
stage  and  assumed  a  respectful,  waiting  air.  Agnes 
spread  the  cloak  before  the  two  chairs.  "  This, 
madame,  came  in  only  yesterday  from  Cheruit. 
Would  you  like  to  see  it  on  the  model  ?  Fifine !  " 

Irene  came  down  stage  with  an  indescribable  mix- 
ture of  languid  hauteur  and  respectful  submission. 
She  put  her  arms  into  the  cloak  as  Agnes  held  it  for 

106 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


her.  With  one  hand  she  held  the  black  fur  of  it  up 
against  her  chin,  while  the  other  was  outstretched 
gracefully  as  if  some  one  had  at  that  instant  helped 
her  from  her  motor  car.  Slowly  she  turned  her  back 
on  the  two  chairs  and  walked  away  from  them.  It 
was  plain  to  be  seen  that  she  was  threading  her  way 
among  admiring  acquaintances  at  the  opera,  or  per- 
haps at  a  Royal  Audience.  She  now  and  then  ex- 
tended a  hand,  which  displayed  the  draping  of  the 
sleeve,  she  turned  to  give  the  two  chairs  a  side  view 
as  she  smiled  up  into  an  invisible  face,  she  slowly 
came  down  the  room  again  with  the  cloak  swinging 
open  to  reveal  her  marvelous  slimness.  And  as  she 
came  in  front  of  the  left  hand  chair  —  the  seat  of  the 
ghostly  friend  of  Madame,  the  customer  —  she  smiled 
down  at  him  the  most  amazing  smile,  intimately  know- 
ing —  as  who  should  say :  "  You  and  I,  my  friend, 
understand  each  other,  because  we  alone  of  all  pres- 
ent understand  true  chic!  " 

The  other  models  giggled.  "  Ain't  she  the 
limit !  " 

Anne  was  torn  between  admiration  and  a  desire 
107 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


to  laugh  wildly.  "  I'm  afraid  I  never  can  do  that !  " 
she  said  faintly. 

"  Oh,  yes,  you  can  with  practice,"  returned  Irene 
complacently.  "  You  know  an  evening  wrap  from 
a  boudoir  gown,  which  none  of  these  other  goils  do, 
never  having  had  either.  Now  we'll  try  again.  I'm 
selling  the  coat  and  you're  the  model.  Wait  up 
there  near  the  door." 

Over  and  over  the  farcical  process  they  went  until 
Anne  was  ready  to  drop.  But  although  she  despised 
Madame  Irene  and  her  frank  lack  of  ethics  in  selling 
methods,  she,  somehow,  liked  her.  She  had  a  shrewd 
wit,  and  her  eyes  when  no  one  was  looking  were  kind. 
One  of  the  other  models  told  Anne  later  that  the  firm 
paid  Irene  a  higher  salary  than  any  of  the  other 
saleswomen  because  only  she  could  handle  certain 
rich  but  difficult  customers. 

Anne  came  back  at  eight-thirty  next  morning.  As 
a  customer  rarely  arrived  before  ten,  all  of  the  models 
helped  in  arranging  the  showrooms,  running  errands 
between  the  stock  and  the  great  workroom  at  the 
back,  and  otherwise  making  themselves  useful.  Then 

108 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


they  donned  their  gray  chiffons,  powdered  and 
rouged  very  skillfully  and  pulled  on  their  gray  stock- 
ings. Presently  a  young  girl  in  black  with  a  white 
Swiss  apron  would  come  running  back.  "  Elise ! 
Forward !  "  And  a  girl  would  go  out,  with  a  bored 
air,  but  with  her  eyes  lighting  up.  They  liked  slip- 
ping their  arms  into  the  soft  satins  and  velvets,  feel- 
ing the  luxurious  fur  around  their  faces,  seeing  their 
prettiness  increased  tenfold  by  the  wonderful  gar- 
ments. Their  manner,  their  gait,  their  very  expres- 
sions changed  the  moment  they  put  on  a  Lanvin  or 
a  Jenny  model. 

But  Anne  hated  it,  at  first.  The  blood  was  in  her 
cheeks  as  she  exhibited  before  her  first  customer. 
"  What  an  awful  way  to  make  a  living !  "  she  thought. 
Then,  as  she  saw  herself  in  a  mirror,  she  felt  some- 
what consoled.  She  had  never  looked  so  well! 
Why,  she  was  beautiful!  That  is  what  the  right 
kind  of  clothes  would  do  for  her !  Then  her  sense  of 
humor  asserted  itself.  She  smiled  into  the  deep  fur 
of  the  collar  around  her  neck.  She  recognized  that 
she  had  indulged  in  exactly  the  sort  of  thought  that 

109 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


is  supposed  to  come  to  the  moving-picture,  "  easiest- 
way  "  heroine.  And  she  reflected :  "  We're  all  a 
good  deal  alike  under  our  skins !  " 

For  ten  days  she  put  on  and  took  off  luxurious 
garments  walking  slowly  up  and  down  the  gray  mir- 
rored rooms,  before  the  critical  eyes  of  customers, 
saleswomen  and  Madame  Irene.  She  was  only  a  half 
success  because  she  never  took  the  job  seriously. 
Half  the  time  she  was  inwardly  laughing  at  herself 
and  at  the  customers  who  took  the  choosing  of  an 
evening  wrap  with  so  deadly  an  anxiety,  and  the 
other  half  she  was  bored  and  disgusted.  Sometimes, 
when  she  was  exhibiting  an  ususually  beautiful  gar- 
ment to  a  customer,  she  considered  the  "  right  sort," 
she  took  a  keen  pleasure  in  showing  off  the  best  points 
of  the  wrap,  and  on  these  occasions  Madame  Irene 
looked  at  her  approvingly.  But  these  times  were 
few.  She  was  merely  marking  time  until  something 
pushed  her  in  another  direction.  She  felt  rather 
apathetic,  very  lonely  and  a  little  abused  by  circum- 
stances. 

Her  attitude  towards  the  other  models  was  polite 
110 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


but  a  trifle  aloof.  As  they  did  not  understand  her, 
they  let  her  severely  alone.  And  yet,  her  mental 
condescension  toward  them  was  beginning  to  be 
troubled  by  an  unwilling  admiration.  How  did  they 
manage  to  keep  themselves  so  neat,  their  hair  so 
burnished,  their  nails  so  twinkling,  their  street  suits 
so  up  to  the  minute,  on  the  wages  they  received? 
She  gathered  from  their  interminable  gossip  that  their 
knowledge  of  where  to  go  for  the  smartest  clothes 
for  the  least  money,  of  where  to  get  the  best  food 
for  the  smallest  expenditure,  was  amazing.  They 
were  all  experts  in  the  art  of  keeping  the  show-win- 
dow shining.  And  they  were  hardy  experts  in  hu- 
man nature,  especially  male  human  nature.  They 
were  exceedingly  wary  of  one  another,  which  showed 
how  much  they  respected  their  own  sex.  They 
talked  constantly,  but  told  little.  They  never  read 
a  book  or  a  newspaper,  in  the  many  quarter  hours 
when  they  sat  about  the  dressing-room,  but  their 
powers  of  observation  were  enormous.  They  had 
no  ambitions,  few  ideals,  that  Anne  could  discover. 
And  yet,  she  could  not  entirely  despise  them.  They 

111 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


were  such  expert  swimmers  in  the  difficult  waters  of 
life!  They  made  her  feel  ashamed  of  her  own 
floundering  attempts  to  keep  herself  afloat. 

But  she  was  not  destined  to  remain  long  in  their 
company.  One  day  as  she  was  putting  away  some 
wraps  she  had  just  been  exhibiting,  she  heard  a  fa- 
miliar voice  in  the  room  behind  one  of  the  gray  par- 
titions. She  knew  it  at  once  for  the  voice  of  Ada 
Kent.  A  flush  of  horror  went  over  her.  This  was 
the  last  thing  she  had  expected  to  happen,  for  none 
of  the  women  she  knew  could  afford,  as  a  usual  thing, 
an  evening  wrap  from  this  house.  She  had  felt  se- 
cure in  that  respect.  But  Ada  had  apparently 
brought  in  a  friend  from  out  of  town,  for  she  could 
hear  her  explaining  that  she  had  brought  Mrs.  Rich- 
mond because  so-and-so  had  found  such  a  wonderful 
electric  blue  coat  there,  and  couldn't  they  show  her 
something  without  waiting  for  an  appointment? 

"  Of  course,  we  nevaire  do  zat,"  Anne  could  hear 
Irene  explaining,  "  but  since  Madame  is  from  out 
of  town  —  possiblee  —  v'la !  I  weel  call  a  manne- 


quin !  " 


112 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


Anne's  skin  crept.  As  she  came  through  the  large 
room  she  had  observed  that  it  was  a  busy  morning. 
The  chances  were  that  Irene  would  call  her.  How 
horrible,  how  unbearable  to  hear  Ada  Kent's  ex- 
clamation as  her  friend  appeared  in  the  gray  uniform 
of  a  model.  It  would  not  be  quite  so  bad  if  Ada  were 
alone.  But  in  a  flash  she  could  imagine  Ada's  em- 
barrassment before  her  wealthy  out-of-town  friend, 
her  effort  to  disentangle  herself  from  the  situation. 
No,  she  could  not  face  it !  She  dropped  the  cloak  she 
had  been  about  to  put  away,  and  ran  fleetly  down  the 
little  corridor  that  extended  behind  the  fitting 
cabinets.  The  dressing-room  was  empty.  She 
closed  the  door  and  frantically  unhooked  her  gray 
frock.  She  was  taking  her  own  street  clothes  from 
her  locker  when  the  little  messenger  girl  called 
"  Silvia !  Forward !  " 

"  Yes !  "  cried  "  Silvia."  But  in  two  minutes  more 
she  was  slipping  down  the  corridor  toward  the  em- 
ployees' exit.  Fortunately  it  was  nearing  the 
luncheon  hour ;  already  the  girls  from  the  work-room 
were  going  out,  and  she  slipped  out  among  them. 

113 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


She  had  swiftly  walked  two  blocks  before  she  be- 
came fully  conscious  of  what  she  had  done.  She  had 
thrown  away  her  first  real  job  because  of  a  snobbish 
and  cowardly  impulse.  She  was  divided  between  a 
hysterical  desire  to  laugh  and  a  rush  of  tears.  For, 
of  course,  she  could  not  go  back.  She  would  now  be 
tortured  by  the  fear  of  running  on  to  Ada  Kent  or 
some  of  her  friends,  and  perhaps  the  firm  would  not 
take  her  back,  anyway.  Discipline  was  sharp  in 
that  place.  No,  she  most  certainly  would  not  go 
back.  She  would  prefer  to  lose  the  three  days' 
wages  due  her. 

"  The  Lord,  Himself,  can't  help  a  perfect  fool ! " 
she  jibed  at  herself  furiously. 

Then  as  she  walked  slowly  along,  depression  and 
uncertainty  followed  on  the  heels  of  her  self-con- 
tempt. After  all,  how  silly  she  was  to  submit  her- 
self to  such  experiences,  when  there  was  no  real 
necessity.  She  had  only  to  send  a  wire  to  Emma  to 
receive  money  for  a  ticket  west.  She  had  only,  as 
it  were,  to  step  through  a  door  back  into  the  pleas- 
ant, comfortable  world  where  young  matrons  are 

114. 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


taken  care  of,  adored,  clothed  and  amused,  with  the 
smallest  outlay  of  effort  in  return. 

She  came  to  a  full  stop  before  the  blue  lettered  win- 
dow of  a  telegraph  office.  She  stood  there  staring 
at  her  reflection  in  the  glass.  She  looked  like  any 
one  of  the  hundreds  of  cherished  daughters  and  young 
wives  who  were  walking  up  and  down  Fifth  Avenue 
at  that  moment.  Her  suit  and  her  furs,  her  gloves 
and  boots  were  still  smart  and  in  the  mode,  her  face 
had  the  fresh,  unlined  beauty  of  the  woman  who  has 
always  walked  in  pleasant  ways.  But  within  she 
was  a  failure.  Where  was  that  jaunty  self-confi- 
dence with  which  she  had  set  out  to  convince  Emma 
and  Roger  that  she  was  a  competent,  clever  person? 
All  gone,  or  at  least  temporarily  crushed.  The  least 
of  those  mannequins  back  there  in  the  shop  was  bet- 
ter fitted  to  keep  herself  alive  than  she  was. 

And,  yet,  she  had  always  considered  herself  and 
Ada  Kent,  for  instance,  capable  and  rather  gifted. 
Their  homes  were  furnished  with  cleverness  and,  to 
their  own  way  of  thinking,  with  a  quite  high  degree 
of  artistic  ability,  most  of  which  they  had  acquired 

115 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


from  magazines  like  The  World  and  the  Flesh  or  La 
Mode.  Their  frocks  were  as  smart  and  expensive 
as  any  human  being  could  manage  on  their  dress  al- 
lowance. Their  little  dinners  were  always  accom- 
panied by  the  latest  thing  in  the  arrangement  of  flow- 
ers, in  entrees  and  in  the  style  of  the  maids'  aprons. 
Their  husbands  did  not  stray  from  the  hearthstone, 
and  sometimes  their  wives'  names  appeared  in  a  so- 
ciety column.  Why  should  not  these  wives  consider 
themselves  successes?  But  by  whose  standards  were 
they  measured?  She  was  beginning  to  suspect  that 
she  and  Ada  Kent  and  the  other  women  of  their  im- 
mediate circle  had  set  their  own  standards.  It 
struck  her,  in  this  moment  of  most  unusual  reflection, 
that  they  had  been  rather  easy  standards.  What, 
after  all,  had  any  of  them  known  about  the  real 
world  where  men  and  women  swam  and  struggled 
against  deep,  terrible  currents,  where  many  of  them 
went  under  and  others  just  managed  to  keep  afloat? 
These  were  unusual  and  painful  thoughts  for  Anne 
Henderson  to  be  entertaining.  They  had  never  vis- 
ited her  before,  except  on  the  night  Marian  went 

116 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


away  and  the  Colonel  called.  And  on  that  night  she 
had  been  still  full  of  confidence,  underneath  her 
fright.  But  to-day  she  was  more  distrustful  of  her- 
self than  she  had  ever  been  in  her  life.  She  opened 
her  purse.  A  telegram  to  Emma  would  cost  a  dol- 
lar. She  had  only  to  go  in  there,  write  a  few  words 
on  one  of  those  yellow  forms  she  could  see  through 
the  glass  —  and  she  would  be  back  in  her  old  snug 
harbor. 

But  she  did  not  go  in.  Something  in  that  tre- 
mendous world  of  workers  whose  edges  she  had 
brushed  in  the  past  ten  days  had  reached  out  and  got 
hold  of  her.  She  did  not  know  it,  but  some  pride 
in  her  deeper  than  any  of  the  petty  vanity  she  had 
ever  known  was  keeping  her  from  acknowledging 
her  failure.  A  latent  ambition,  a  will-to-accomplish 
which  had  been  smothered  in  the  softness  of  her  life 
was  stirring  in  her,  underneath  her  surface  fears. 
She  came  of  ancestors  who  had  been  workers  and 
fighters;  it  was  no  fault  of  her  inheritance  that  she 
was  flabby.  Some  instinct  to  sustain  herself  never 
called  out  in  her  before  had  been  goaded  awake  in 

117 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


the  stress  of  the  last  week.  She  revolted  against  it, 
turning  wistfully  toward  the  ease  and  softness  of  her 
old  life  —  but  still  she  did  not  send  her  telegram  to 
Emma. 


CHAPTER  VII 

THE   next   morning   she   slept   late   and   was 
dressing  languidly,  trying  to  decide  what 
should  be  her  next  move,  when  a  letter  was 
pushed  under  her  door.     She  gave  a  little  cry  of  joy 
as  she  saw  that  it  was  from  Roger.     His  letters  had 
been  dreadfully  slow  in  coming,  arriving  sometimes 
in  bunches  of  three  and  four.     And  to  think  of  one 
coming  on  this  morning  of  all  mornings  when  she 
needed  one  so  much!     She  tore  it  open  and  glanced 
at  the  beginning. 

"  Somewhere  in  France :  " —  so  at  last  it  had  come 
—  he  had  got  his  wish,  he  had  reached  the  front. 
The  letter  at  the  beginning  was  jubliant  in  tone.  It 
looked,  he  said,  as  if  their  period  of  training  was 
about  over,  as  if  they  were  actually  to  be  used,  at 
last.  They  were  billeted  in  a  tiny  French  village  not 
two  miles  behind  the  lines ;  he  was  accustomed,  now, 

119 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


to  going  to  sleep  to  the  deep  rumble  of  far-off  guns. 
"  And  whom  do  you  suppose  I  met  the  other  day, 
Anne?  It  would  be  astonishing  if  there  weren't  the 
most  amazing  reunions  occurring  all  the  time.  Do 
you  remember  the  boy  I  told  you  about  who  enlisted 
just  after  we  entered  the  war,  Snubby,  the  boy  in  our 
drafting  room?  Used  to  be  a  pestiferous  cub,  al- 
ways teasing  the  stenographers  and  singing  through 
his  nose?  Well,  the  kid  is  a  Sergeant,  now,  and  the 
straightest,  liveliest  soldier  of  the  Company.  Funny, 
how  I  met  him.  Ackwell  and  I  —  Ack  is  my  chum, 
a  Technology  man  from  Boston  —  were  coming  back 
from  a  long,  wet,  cold  day's  work  on  a  new  barracks, 
and  the  little  old  village  looked  mighty  good  to  us. 
It  Had  cleared  up  a  little  and  the  low  sun  behind 
us  flooded  the  yellow  stone  walls  of  the  houses  and 
the  heaped  up  masses  of  clouds  with  a  rich  saffron 
glow.  They  were  shelling  a  battery  to  our  left  and 
we  were  watching  the  bursts  when  suddenly  we  no- 
ticed a  difference  in  the  whine  of  the  shells.  We 
ducked  for  a  ditch,  and  as  we  ran  I  turned  my  head 
and  caught  a  glimpse  of  a  picture  that  sticks  in  my 

120 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


mind.  The  shells  were  landing  around  the  village 
cemetery.  Two  women  and  a  child  were  running  for 
cover,  driving  their  cow  before  them.  It  looked  for 
all  the  world  like  a,  pantomime  in  a  wonderful  set- 
ting: the  rich  deep  green  grass  in  the  foreground, 
the  black  figures  silhouetted  against  the  glowing  wall, 
the  tall,  decorative  black  trees  of  the  cemetery,  and 
back  of  it,  dwarfing  and  making  everything  toylike 
and  unreal,  the  huge,  piled-up  mass  of  saffron  clouds. 
One  woman  had  been  gathering  greens,  her  skirt  was 
full  of  them,  one  arm  was  bent  over  her  head  as  she 
ran.  The  cow  came  to  the  cemetery  wall  and  re- 
fused, cow-like,  to  see  the  gate.  At  that  instant  a 
shell  struck  uncomfortably  near.  Ack  and  I  simul- 
taneously lay  down  in  our  ditch.  But  pretty  soon 
I  raised  my  head  to  see  how  the  women  and  the  cow 
were  coming  on.  The  cow,  now  completely  rattled, 
was  headed  straight  for  the  open  country  —  and  the 
Front.  Both  women  were  running  after  the  cow. 
You  see,  that  cow  meant,  probably,  everything  in 
the  world  to  them,  besides  being  a  good  friend  of 
long  standing.  The  little  child  was  crouched  down 

121 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


against  the  cemetery  wall  looking  sadly  after  them. 
Ack  and  I  half  rose  from  our  ditch,  when  out  of  the 
safety  of  the  cemetery  there  shot  a  long  legged 
doughboy,  and  zip!  he  was  up  the  road  after  that 
cow.  He  turned  her  about  and  drove  her  into  the 
cemetery  gate  whooping  as  if  he  was  driving  a  herd 
of  buffalo.  The  women  and  the  child  scuttled  in  after 
him.  In  a  few  minutes  the  shelling  let  up.  As  we 
emerged  from  our  ditch  the  volunteer  cowboy  came 
along  the  road,  singing.  When  I  heard  that  voice 
I  stopped  —  and  it  was  Snubby !  Well,  nothing 
would  do  but  we  must  go  to  his  billet  for  supper. 
I  wish  you  could  have  seen  that  room  of  Snubby's. 
He  and  two  other  fellows  had  hired  a  little  back 
room  from  an  old  Frenchman  they  called  the  Pirate. 
The  entrance  was  through  a  stable  with  restive  mules, 
rabbits  and  hens  and  no  lights  allowed,  through  a 
door  with  one  hinge,  down  two  steps  —  and  there 
you  were.  There  was  just  room  for  their  three  beds 
(made  of  chicken  wire  and  duck  boards),  one  stool 
and  a  box  before  the  fireplace,  garlands  of  wet  socks 
and  puttees,  windows  patched  with  a  shelter  half, 

122 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


muddy  boots  and  slickers,  gas  masks  and  helmets. 
But  there  were  from  six  to  nine  of  us  in  there  that 
evening.  The  night  we  met  Snubby,  Ack  had  got 
a  box  of  fruit  cake  from  his  girl,  and  Snubby  said 
he  knew  of  an  old  lady  who  loved  him  dearly  and 
who  would  sell  him  half  a  ham.  What  a  feast  we  had ! 
Nothing  in  the  world  ever  tasted  so  good,  with  the 
candles  lighted,  the  fire  crackling,  and  the  distant 
rumble  of  the  guns.  Snubby  and  I  talked  our  heads 
off  about  the  boss  and  the  office  and  Tommy  Greeley 
(who  took  my  place,  you  know)  and  good  old  Charley 
Drierson.  Funny,  how  glad  I  was  to  see  that  boy! 
He's  improved  a  hundred  per  cent.,  and  he  says 
when  he  gets  back  home  he's  going  to  the  boss  and 
tell  him  he  wants  to  learn  the  business  from  the  bot- 
tom up.  Talking  with  him  about  things  back  there 
seemed  to  bring  it  all  so  close  to  us  both.  I  real- 
ized, as  I  never  have  before,  how  decent  the  boss  has 
been  to  all  of  us,  what  a  chance  we  all  had  to  work 
up.  What  we've  seen  over  here  makes  America  look 
good  to  us  in  a  way  it  never  did  before.  Not  that 
I'm  homesick,  my  dear,  though  I'd  give  'most  any- 

123 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


thing  to  see  you  right  now.  No,  I'm  too  full  of  a  kind 
of  excitement  that  isn't  excitement  because  it's  so 
serene.  It's  hard  to  put  into  words  —  I  guess  it's 
just  an  extraordinarily  deep  happiness.  .  .  .  Your  let- 
ter just  came  telling  me  that  Emma  and  Henry  have 
gone  to  Arizona.  Why  didn't  you  go  with  them? 
And  what  is  this  Madison  Avenue  address?  You 
speak  about  being  with  Marian  Beal,  about  some  kind 
of  business.  Who  is  she  ?  and  what  is  the  business  ?  I 
don't  like  the  idea  of  your  being  in  New  York  alone. 
Look  here,  I  want  you  to  write  and  promise  me  that 
if  you  should  need  advice  or  help  in  any  way  you  will 
go  to  see  Frank  Leavitt.  I  know  that  for  my  sake 
he  would  help  you  in  any  way  possible.  He  has  al- 
ways been  fine  and  square  with  me,  and  I  shall  feel 
that  you  have  a  good  friend  if  you  ever  appeal  to 
him.  .  .  ." 

Anne  re-read  this  letter  as  she  ate  her  breakfast 
at  a  small  restaurant  near  her  lodging  house.  She 
had  made  her  letters  purposely  rather  vague  about 
her  venture  with  Marian,  and  she  had  not  had  the 
courage  to  tell  him  as  yet  of  her  failure.  A  letter 

124 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


such  as  this  one  made  a  gloomy  letter  from  her  more 
of  an  impossibility  than  ever.  There  had  never  been 
a  word  from  Roger  of  discomforts,  or  danger,  or 
weariness;  his  letters  made  her  feel  ashamed  of  the 
self-pity  she  indulged  in.  Sometime,  when  he  had 
come  back,  she  would  tell  him  about  Marian  and  the 
shop  and  the  evening  wraps,  sometime  when  they 
could  laugh  together  over  these  episodes.  At  pres- 
ent she  felt  they  were  a  bit  too  near  to  her  to  be 
laughed  at. 

It  was  odd  that  the  letter  from  Roger  should  have 
contained  Frank  Leavitt's  name,  for  only  that  morn- 
ing before  she  arose  she  had  wondered  if  it  would 
not  be  the  sensible  thing  to  go  to  Roger's  former  em- 
ployer and  tell  him  frankly  that  she  needed  advice. 
She  had  not  been  sure  Roger  would  like  her  to  do 
this,  but  now  this  uncertainty  was  settled.  She  did 
not  want  to  go  Leavitt,  a  man  she  knew  in  a  semi- 
social  way,  and  tell  him  that  she  had  to  earn  some 
money  and  didn't  know  how  to  do  it.  But,  on  the 
other  hand,  it  would  be  easier  to  go  to  him  than  to 
Ada  Kent's  husband,  for  instance. 

125 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


An  hour  later  she  was  standing  in  the  outer  room 
of  the  Leavitt  Company,  Engineers  and  Builders,  ask- 
ing Daisy,  the  telephone  girl,  if  she  could  have  a 
moment  with  Mr.  Leavitt.  She  had  been  in  the  of- 
fices half  a  dozen  times  before  when  she  was  to  meet 
Roger  for  lunch,  and  she  knew  by  sight  several  of 
the  men  Roger  often  spoke  of.  Frank  Leavitt,  the 
head  of  the  company,  had  always  seemed  fond  of 
Roger,  and  had  played  golf  with  them  and  dined 
with  them  once  or  twice.  He  rose  and  came  to  meet 
her  as  his  stenographer  ushered  her  in. 

"  Nothing  wrong  with  Roger,  I  hope?  "  he  in- 
quired as  they  shook  hands. 

"  No,  no.  From  his  last  letter  he  is  having  a 
wonderful  time !  "  She  drew  a  long  breath  to  steady 
herself.  "  The  trouble  is  with  me.  I  wonder  if  you 
will  give  me  some  advice.  You  see,  I  want  to  earn 
some  money,  and  I  don't  know  how  to  start  in." 

She  saw  the  subtle  hardening  that  comes  into  a 
business  man's  face  when  he  is  confronted  by  a  favor- 
hunter,  and  she  reddened.  This  was  going  to  be 

126 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


harder  than  she  thought.  Leavitt  looked  at  her  with 
a  keen,  hazel  eye. 

"  I  understood  Roger  to  say  you  would  live  with 
your  sister,  Mrs.  Henderson  ?  " 

Anne  explained  that  her  sister  had  gone  away  for 
the  spring,  and  she  hadn't  cared  to  go  with  her. 
"  If  I  could  find  something  I  could  do,"  Anne  mur- 
mured, "  I  would  much  rather  be  independent." 

Mr.  Leavitt  tapped  meditatively  with  a  pencil. 
"  What  can  you  do  ?  I  mean,  have  you  had  any 
special  training?  " 

She  had  to  admit  that  she  had  not.  "  But  I  am 
willing  to  do  almost  anything  —  suitable,"  she 
added. 

Leavitt  smiled  a  trifle  wearily.  "  That  is  the  dif- 
ficulty, isn't  it?  A  suitable  occupation  for  a  well 
bred  woman  who  has  had  no  training !  "  He  looked 
down  at  his  pencil,  meditating  for  a  moment.  "  I 
think,  if  you  would  care  to  try  it,  we  could  give  you 
something  here  in  our  offices.  But,  of  course,  I  won't 
guarantee  that  it  will  be  suitable!  And  the  pay 
won't  be  much  to  start  on.  But  there  is  an  oppor- 

127 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


tunity  for  a  clever  woman  to  make  a  place  for  her- 
self in  our  organization  —  if  she  wants  to.  Suppose 
you  come  to-morrow  morning,  and  after  a  trial  if 
you  find  you  don't  care  for  the  work,  or  —  frankly 
—  if  we  find  we  can't  use  you,  we  can  part  amicably." 

A  few  months  earlier  Anne  would  have  resented 
his  cool  and  business-like  tone,  but  she  was  in  a 
chastened  frame  of  mind  just  now.  She  accepted  his 
suggestion  in  a  tone  equally  cool  and  business  like. 
"  I'd  like  to  try,  at  any  rate.  I'll  be  here  in  the 
morning." 

She  took  up  her  new  job  in  a  mixed  sort  of  spirit. 
She  wanted  to  succeed  in  it,  but  she  had  not  yet  come 
to  feel  that  it  was  vitally  necessary  for  her  to  suc- 
ceed. She  took  it  up  with  all  her  ladylikeness  upon 
her;  she  was  the  wife  of  a  man  who  had  held  an  im- 
portant position  there,  moreover  she  knew  many  of 
Mr.  Leavitt's  friends.  She  felt  that  it  would  be  very 
difficult  for  her  to  accept  her  weekly  pay  envelope 
from  his  hands.  And  what  would  be  the  attitude  of 
the  other  employees  toward  her?  she  wondered.  She 
was  Roger's  wife,  and  a  young  woman  of  personal 

128 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


and  social  charms ;  naturally  she  expected  to  be 
treated  by  them  as  a  person  deserving  a  certain 
amount  of  deference. 

It  was  a  decided  surprise  to  her  when  she  found 
that  her  advent  as  a  member  of  the  organization 
scarcely  caused  a  ripple.  Miss  Rickman,  the  boss's 
stenographer,  named  her  to  Evans,  the  traffic  man, 
and  to  Tommy  Greeley,  who  had  stepped  up  into 
Roger's  shoes.  They  asked  politely  after  Roger, 
hoped  she  would  like  her  new  work,  and  took  them- 
selves off  with  abstracted  brows.  They  appeared  to 
be  in  a  hurry  just  at  that  moment.  It  was  Miss 
Rickman  who  initiated  her  into  her  new  job. 

Miss  Rickman  (they  all  called  her  Ricky)  was  a 
dark  young  woman  with  an  Hebraic  nose,  beautiful 
eyes,  and  a  clever  mouth.  Anne's  first  impression  of 
her  was  that  her  hair  needed  washing;  but  later  she 
was  to  envy  and  admire  Ricky. 

"  Now,  let  me  see,"  mused  Ricky,  jabbing  a  pencil 
into  her  hair  the  while  she  absently  re-read  a  sten- 
ographic note.  "  I  think  Maggie  needs  help  on  the 
files.  It's  kind  of  a  pity  you  wore  that  dress." 

129 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


Anne  looked  down  at  the  navy  blue  taffeta  with 
organdie  collar  and  cuffs,  which  she  had  chosen  be- 
cause it  was  at  once  plain  and  becoming.  She  had 
seen  herself  being  given  some  light,  clean  work  in 
Mr.  Leavitt's  own  office.  "  What  is  the  matter  with 
this  dress  ?  "  she  asked  innocently. 

"  It's  much  too  good,"  said  Ricky.  "  But  you  can 
take  this  black  apron  of  mine,  and  —  here,  I'll  fix 
you  some  paper  cuffs.  Filing  is  dusty  work,  espe- 
cially transferring  —  that's  what  Maggie  is  doing 
just  now." 

"  Am  I  to  be  an  assistant  to  Maggie? "  Anne 
asked, 

"  Yes,"  said  Miss  Rickman,  smiling  in  a  peculiar 
way.  "  But  if  she  gets  too  fresh,  you  come  to  me." 

When  Anne  saw  Maggie  she  felt  a  flash  of  resent- 
ment against  Mr.  Leavitt.  Maggie  was  seventeen. 
When  fetched  from  some  lurking  place  — "  she's  a 
born  loafer,"  said  Ricky  —  she  was  chewing  gum  with 
a  slow,  mournful  insolence.  .  .  .  Her  black  hair 
was  plastered  in  wet  scallops  to  her  plump  cheeks. 
She  had  the  thickest  ankles  Anne  had  ever  seen; 

130 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


between  her  scant  blue  serge  skirt  and  the  tops  of 
her  shoes  two  inches  of  flesh-colored  stocking  showed. 
She  looked  Anne  over  with  a  mixture  of  curiosity  and 
scorn. 

"  Mrs.  Henderson  can  go  on  with  the  transferring 
—  it's  about  wore  me  out,"  said  Maggie  to  Ricky. 

"  Don't  hurt  yourself,  Maggie,"  said  Ricky,  sar- 
castically. "  And  now  that  you've  got  help  you 
might  look  up  that  Whitby  correspondence  you  lost 
last  week." 

"  I  never  did !  "  cried  Maggie.  "  You  never  give 
it  to  me.  I  guess  you're  human  yourself  —  I  guess 
you  make  mistakes  like  other  people " 

"  S-sh ! "  warned  Ricky,  as  Mr.  Leavitt's  door 
opened. 

Maggie  scuttled  down  the  hall  and  Anne  followed 
her  with  a  sense  of  indignation,  mingled  with  a  desire 
to  laugh.  It  was  too  absurd  —  putting  her  to  work 
under  a  creature  like  Maggie. 

But  all  that  day  she  worked  in  silence.  It  became 
a  grim  silence,  for  her  pride  would  not  let  her  show 
how  depressed  she  was.  Never  having  had  an  as- 

131 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


sistant  before,  power  went  to  Maggie's  head.  She 
lolled  in  luxurious  ease  in  a  chair  behind  her  table 
while  Anne  fetched  and  carried,  lifted  out  files  and 
climbed  up  and  down  a  short  ladder  to  top  shelves. 
The  filing  cases  were  in  a  small  room  by  themselves. 
There  was  only  one  chair,  and  Maggie  occupied  that, 
so  that  when  Anne  found  a  moment  to  rest  she 
perched  on  top  of  the  stepladder.  Maggie  regaled 
her,  as  her  mood  relaxed,  with  tales  of  the  jobs,  classy 
jobs,  she  could  have  by  merely  turning  over  her 
hand,  and  of  the  "  gent-mun  friend  "  with  whom  she 
had  quarreled  and  made  up  the  night  before. 

And  Anne  kept  on  thinking :  "  This  is  where 
Roger  earned  our  living.  Every  day  he  came  down 
that  hall,  and  went  into  that  long  room  there  .  .  . 
and  he  may  never  work  here  again.  .  .  ." 

She  had  not  felt  so  poignantly  near  and  yet  so 
separated  from  him  since  he  went  away.  If  it  had 
not  been  for  her  disdain  of  Maggie  she  would  have 
broken  down  long  before  that  interminable  day  was 
over.  As  it  was  she  kept  saying  to  herself : 

"  I  will  not  go  through  another  day  like  this.  I 
132 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


will  not  come  back  to-morrow  —  I'll  write  some  kind 
of  an  excuse  to  Mr.  Leavitt  .  .  .  I'll  telegraph  to 
Emma  to-morrow.  I  can't  bear  it." 

Transferring,  that  is,  the  weeding  out  and  per- 
manent filing  of  important  correspondence,  neces- 
sitates the  opening  of  many  cases  on  which  the  dust  of 
weeks  has  gathered.  Before  night  Anne's  beauti- 
fully kept  hands  were  grimy  and  rough,  there  was 
dust  in  her  hair,  in  her  nostrils.  She  was  disheveled 
and  so  tired  she  ached  from  heacl  to  foot,  Maggie 
was  as  fresh  as  paint.  Maggie  had  learned  the  art 
of  saving  herself ! 

That  night  Anne  was  a  long  time  in  going  to  sleep. 
She  was  too  tired  —  or  perhaps  it  was  that  bitter 
cup  of  coffee  she  had  drunk.  She  lay  thinking,  her 
eyes  on  the  gray  oblong  of  the  window,  through  which 
the  street  lights  shone.  At  first  she  could  think  of 
nothing  but  her  own  discomfort,  the  lumpy  bed,  the 
stale  odors  of  the  carpet  and  the  pillows.  She 
shrank  with  distaste  at  the  thought  of  the  long  line 
of  human  semi-failures  that  had  slept  in  that  bed 
before  her.  The  very  walls  of  the  room  seemed  to 

133 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


give  out  melancholy  exhalations.  She  was  op- 
pressed more  than  ever  by  a  sense  of  the  nightmare 
quality  of  her  experiences  of  the  past  week. 

It  was  impossible  for  her  to  go  on  like  that,  she 
thought.  Roger  would  be  humiliated  if  he  knew 
about  Maggie  and  the  filing,  about  Mr.  Leavitt's 
cool,  businesslike  attitude  toward  her,  about  the 
smallness  of  the  salary  they  offered  her.  And  then 
suddenly  it  came  to  her ;  this  was  the  very  way  Roger 
had  begun. 

Once,  early  in  their  marriage,  they  had  chanced 
to  be  in  this  very  neighborhood  and  Roger  had  sud- 
denly stopped  at  a  cross-street  to  point  out  to  her 
a  row  of  old  brick  houses.  That  was  where  he  had 
lived  when  he  first  came  to  New  York,  he  had  told 
her  —  in  a  furnished  room  which  he  shared  with 
another  young  fellow  from  his  home  town. 

"  My  dear !  wasn't  it  awful  ?  "  she  had  asked  him. 

"  No,  I  don't  remember  that  it  was.  I  was  full 
of  pep  and  ambition.  I  was  glad  to  get  a  start,  even 
at  the  bottom.  I  did  anything  they  had  for  me,  from 
filing  up." 

134 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


From  filing,  up!  He  had  worked  through  almost 
every  department  of  the  building  business,  beginning 
with  the  very  details  that  she  had  endured  to-day. 
Week  after  week,  year  after  year,  he  had  gone  down 
to  his  filing,  or  his  time-keeping,  to  his  superin- 
tendent's job  and  finally  to  the  estimating  depart- 
ment of  which  he  was  now  the  chief.  And  after  they 
were  married  she  had  taken  his  working  life  as  much 
for  granted  as  she  had  taken  those  years  before  he 
and  she  discovered  they  loved  each  other.  It  was  a 
man's  part  to  work  at  his  job,  and  a  woman's  to 
keep  his  home  and  spend  his  salary.  What  he  really 
did  during  the  day  interested  her  but  little. 

But  now  she  had  had  one  day  in  Roger's  shoes. 
And  she  understood  one  thing  that  had  puzzled  her 
about  Roger  in  the  last  days  before  he  sailed  with  his 
Company;  she  knew  now  something  of  the  cause  of 
the  expression  of  peace  that  had  come  into  his  eyes. 
It  had  seemed  to  her  strange  that  a  man,  giving  up 
his  career,  perhaps  his  very  life,  should  wear  that 
look  in  his  eyes ;  but  she  understood  now  that  in  giv- 
ing himself  up  to  become  part  of  the  machinery 

135 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


of  war  he  had  put  off  a  burden,  heavy,  complex 
and  with  him  night  and  day  —  the  burden  of  busi- 
ness. 

She  lay  there  thinking  with  a  sober  clearness  she 
had  never  known  before.  She  seemed  to  see  all  over 
the  land  men  putting  off  the  burden  of  business  to 
fight  the  fight  for  decency  and  honor,  and  in  their 
places  women  taking  the  burden  up.  They  were 
taking  them  up  because  they  were  forced  to :  how  were 
they  going  to  acquit  themselves  once  they  had 
shouldered  them?  Were  they  going  to  whimper, 
were  they  going  to  make  the  foolish,  futile  mistakes 
she  had  made,  were  they  going  to  refuse  the  burden 
and  take  refuge  with  the  nearest  Emma  ?  And  when 
their  men  came  back  were  some  of  them  going  to  find 
their  wives  as  ineffectual,  as  narrow,  as  soft-spirited 
and  soft-handed  as  when  they  went  away?  ... 

"  But  I  hate  it !  "  she  cried.  "  I  hate  living  like 
this,  in  this  shabby,  grimy  way.  How  can  I  do  it? 
How  can  I  go  on  repeating  to-day,  week  after  week  ? 
It's  too  much  to  expect  of  me  —  I  won't  do  it !  I 
can't!" 

136 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


Then  another  voice  said  within  her  quietly: 
"  Roger  did  it,  year  after  year.  .  .  ." 

She  got  up,  went  across  to  the  window  and  looked 
down  at  the  street.  In  semi-shabby,  forgotten 
streets  like  this,  in  furnished  rooms  like  this,  Roger 
had  lived  and  worked  during  those  years  when  she 
was  a  girl,  protected,  petted  and  happy  in  the  pret- 
tiest butterfly  way.  Then,  as  soon  as  he  had  been 
able  to  lift  himself  out  of  shabby  streets  and  mean 
rooms,  he  had  married  her  —  and  she  had  gone  on 
being  a  butterfly.  He  had  carried  her  on  his 
shoulders,  and  in  return  she  had  given  him  the  half 
careless,  half  condescending  love  of  the  American 
young  girl.  .  .  . 

Her  thoughts  took  no  such  definite  shape  as  these 
words,  but  they  pressed  in  on  her  in  a  vague,  uneasy 
questioning  of  herself,  with  now  and  then  a  vivid  pic- 
ture of  the  past.  For  the  first  time  in  her  life  her 
belief  in  her  right  to  a  golden  destiny  was  shaken. 
She  tried  to  remind  herself  that  she  had  always  made 
Roger's  home  attractive,  that  she  had  always  been 
cheerful  and  humored  him  in  his  moods,  that  she  had 

137 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


put  no  straw  (except  remonstrances)  in  the  way  of 
his  going  to  France. 

But  the  memory  of  his  tired  eyes  after  an  unusu- 
ally hard  day  tormented  her.  That  expression  in  his 
eyes  had  a  meaning  for  her,  now,  after  one  day  in 
the  place  where  he  had  worked. 

Her  heart  suddenly  ached  with  longing  for  him. 
There  was  a  feeling  that  had  never  been  there  before, 
as  if  she  wanted  to  press  his  head  against  her  breast, 
to  comfort  him  for  the  loss  of  something  she  might 
have  given  him,  but  never  had.  Wrapping  herself 
in  a  warm  robe  she  lighted  the  gas  and  got  out  her 
writing  materials. 

"DEAREST  ROGER:  Only  a  short  note  written  before  I  go  to 
sleep  to  tell  you  that  you  musn't  worry  about  my  not  going  to 
Arizona  with  Emma.  I  am  going  to  get  along  beautifully  by 
myself,  and  it  will  be  much  better  for  me.  I  have  taken  your 
advice  about  going  to  see  Mr.  Leavitt.  In  fact  —  be  prepared 
for  a  surprise,  Roger!  —  I  now  have  a  job  with  the  Company. 
Yes,  a  real  job  with  a  salary  and  all.  And  I  know  I  am  going 
to  like  it  immensely.  They  are  all  very  kind  to  me.  I  like 
Ricky  and  Tommy  Greeley  and  Mr.  Evans.  The  work  doesn't 
seem  to  be  difficult  at  all  — " 

Her  heart  grew  lighter,  her  pen  flew.  After  all, 
this  was  going  to  be  rather  an  amusing  game,  to  fool 

138 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


Roger.  If  he  could  stick,  so  could  she !  If  he  could 
write  her  from  the  mud  and  cold  and  horror  over  there 
cheerful  letters  about  his  pals  and  sunsets  and  amus- 
ing cows,  she  could  write  him  cheerful  lies  about  her 
adventures  in  wage-earning. 

And  when  he  got  home,  all  this  would  be  as  if  it  had 
never  been,  as  if  they  had  dreamed  it,  both  of  them. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

THEN  there  began  for  her  a  period  in  which 
she  found  herself  cast  for  a  role  she  had 
never  dreamed  herself  playing.  There  were 
a  number  of  things  she  had  to  learn  painfully,  and 
a  number  of  other  things  she  had  to  unlearn  with 
equal  difficulty.  In  a  great  deal  of  the  fiction  she 
had  read  the  heroine  always  won  her  way  with  com- 
parative ease,  through  sheer  charm  and  native  wit. 
But,  somehow,  charm  and  native  wit  did  not  seem  to 
have  much  of  a  chance  with  the  Company.  The  most 
elementary  course  in  a  Correspondence  School  would 
have  gone  further  than  the  charm  of  a  Madame  de 
Sevigne.  It  was  very  disillusioning.  And  yet,  in 
a  queer  sort  of  way,  it  was  stimulating,  too.  A 
sense  of  being  part  of  a  mighty  pageant  that  took 
up  its  march  toward  some  uncomprehended  goal  at 
dawn  and  swept  onward  irresistibly  until  dark  seized 

140 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


her  very  early  in  this  first  month.  She  felt  the  grim, 
vital,  fascinating  world  of  work  reach  out  for  her 
long  before  she  had  awakened  in  the  mornings.  She 
would  sit  up  with  a  start,  feeling  for  her  watch. 
What  if  she  had  overslept !  Six  o'clock !  a  cold  dark- 
ness in  her  room,  the  window  just  beginning  to  turn 
gray.  She  would  lie  back  for  a  moment  on  her  pil- 
low with  a  half  groan.  How  she  hated  the  moment 
when  she  left  her  bed  and  lighted  the  dim  yellow  gas 
jet,  revealing  the  dingy  room,  the  battered  bureau, 
her  two  trunks  taking  up  most  of  the  room,  and  the 
washstand,  with  a  red-bordered  towel  tacked  behind 
it,  where  she  bathed,  shivering  and  thinking  of  the 
warm  and  glistening  bathroom  she  had  always  been 
accustomed  to.  How  she  hated  and  shrank  from 
her  surroundings  in  this  hour! 

And  yet,  curiously  enough,  mingled  with  the  ting- 
ling of  her  cold  bath,  there  always  came  to  her  that 
sense  of  being  in  a  mighty  current.  When  she  left  the 
small  dairy  lunch-room  where  she  breakfasted  on  oat- 
meal and  toast,  this  sense  deepened,  for  now  she 
found  herself  one  of  a  tide  of  girls  and  young  men 

141 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


that  flowed  west  toward  the  great  arteries  of  busi- 
ness, toward  the  elevated  stations  and  the  surface 
cars,  bound  downtown.  They  seemed  to  hurl  them- 
selves forward,  their  faces  bent  before  the  cold  morn- 
ing wind,  in  them  a  tense  absorption,  as  if  already 
their  jobs  claimed  them.  She  joined  this  tide,  and 
it  enveloped  her,  pouring  into  her  veins  something 
electrical  and  alert.  She  learned  to  dodge  through 
the  traffic  as  lightly  and  deftly  as  the  little  shop  girls 
and  stenographers  who  clicked  along  on  the  high 
heels  of  their  absurd  shoes ;  and  as  she  neared  her 
own  place  of  work  she  would  wonder  what  was  in 
store  for  her  to-day,  whether  she  would  get  through 
the  day  without  a  mistake,  whether  the  boss  would 
be  in  a  good  humor  or  in  one  of  his  dour  spells, 
whether  she  could  afford  a  hot  lunch  at  the  Y.  W.  C. 
A.  or  would  have  to  manage  with  a  sandwich  at  a 
soda  fountain. 

And  as  she  had  learned  to  make  her  way  through 
the  rush  hour  traffic,  she  was  slowly  learning  the  give 
and  take  of  office  life.  She  forgot  that  she  was  Anne 
Henderson,  a  young  matron  who  had  always  been 

142 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


deferred  to,  and  became  an  employee  of  the  company, 
a  very  humble  employee,  strictly  on  her  merits, 
pitched  into  that  particular  puddle  to  sink  or  swim. 
She  learned  that  a  business  organization  is  like 
a  small  community,  the  different  groups  interrelated, 
more  or  less  interdependent.  There  were  family 
jealousies,  backbitings  and  recriminations  between 
the  different  groups,  which  reached  from  the  humblest 
foreman  to  the  General  Superintendent ;  there  was  a 
standing  feud  between  Ricky  and  the  stenographer 
of  the  treasurer;  there  were  strained  relations  fre- 
quently between  Dillon  of  the  Purchasing  Depart- 
ment and  the  Traffic  Manager.  There  were  days 
when  the  place  was  on  edge  with  those  difficult  and 
touchy  individuals,  the  Architects;  when  it  boiled 
with  aggrieved  subcontractors,  or  vibrated  with  com- 
placent superintendents  from  the  various  jobs,  who 
were  as  full  of  their  achievements  as  small  sea  cap- 
tains home  from  a  voyage.  There  were  days  when 
every  one  cowered  before  the  boss's  sudden  fits  of 
temper,  or  shivered  before  his  cold  disapproval,  each 
one  of  them  taking  it  out  on  the  man  underneath 

143 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


him.  And  then  there  were  days  when  they  expanded 
under  his  friendly  jokes,  when  everything  moved  off 
with  a  cheerful  snappiness,  when  they  were  all  firmly 
convinced  that  they  composed  the  most  competent 
and  going  organization  in  New  York. 

At  first  she  felt  bewildered  and  strange  in  this 
humming  world,  but  she  had  the  adaptability  of  most 
American  women.  Little  by  little  she  forgot  to  think 
about  herself  and  learned  to  think  about  the  work  in 
hand.  She  knew  that  she  was  there  largely  through 
Mr.  Leavitt's  good-nature.  Her  job  was  a  sort  of 
glorified  office  boy's  work  —  filing,  affixing  postage 
stamps  to  correspondence,  carrying  packages  to  the 
express  offices,  looking  up  data  in  the  public  library 
for  the  boss,  conveying  plans  and  messages  to  the 
superintendents  on  the  two  or  three  city  jobs  that 
were  under  way.  None  of  these  things  was  impor- 
tant, and  she  sometimes  felt  a  conviction  of  her  own 
futility.  And  yet,  never  a  day  passed  that  she  did 
not  learn  some  detail  that  later  was  to  be  of  use  to 
her  in  a  way  she  did  not  then  foresee. 

This  sense  of  being  a  part  of  a  job  that  was  in 
144 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


turn  a  part  of  the  world's  work  did  not  come  all  at 
once  or  quickly.  It  did  not  begin  to  come  to  her  in 
fact,  until  after  her  first  bad  mistake.  But  perhaps 
the  real  beginning  of  it  was  due  to  Maggie's  discharge. 
Maggie  had  exceeded  the  bounds  of  discretion  once 
too  often ;  had  spoken  impertinently  to  Charley  Drier- 
son  and  was  out  of  a  job  before  she  quite  knew  what 
had  happened.  This  happened  after  Anne  had  been 
under  her  galling  yoke  for  a  week.  Charley  Drier- 
son,  disgust  written  on  his  countenance,  was  about  to 
telephone  an  agency  for  some  one  to  take  Maggie's 
place,  when  Ricky  intervened. 

"  What  you  want  to  get  another  girl  for,  Mr. 
Drierson?  Mrs.  Henderson  can  do  Maggie's  work 
and  her  own  too.  If  you  show  her  a  bit  she'll  be  all 
right." 

Charley  Drierson  scratched  his  stubby  gray  head 
and  looked  at  Anne  with  extreme  dubiety.  Anne 
knew  he  was  not  at  all  flattering,  but  she  waited 
meekly  for  his  decision.  She  knew  that  with  him  as 
well  as  with  the  other  men  she  was  strictly  on  proba- 
tion. They  had  for  the  first  few  days  found  it  rather 

145 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


embarrassing  to  have  Roger's  wife  working  alongside 
them.  All  of  them  liked  Roger,  but  the  general,  un- 
spoken opinion  was  that  he  was  a  promising  chap 
who  had  been  somehow  handicapped.  The  chances 
were  it  was  Mrs.  Roger's  fault.  They  had  gath- 
ered from  some  vague  source  of  office  gossip  that  she 
was  extravagant.  Some  of  them  knew  about  the 
boss  having  given  Roger  and  Lymon  an  opportunity 
to  put  some  money  in  the  organization,  and  they 
knew  that  Lymon  had  taken  quick  advantage  of  the 
chance  while  Roger  had  not.  They  knew  that  Roger 
played  golf  with  friends  of  the  boss,  and  they  got  it 
from  Daisy  the  telephone  girl  —  who  had  been  there 
so  long  that  she  knew  all  about  everybody  from  the 
number  of  children  he  had  to  where  he  ate  his  lunch 
—  that  Mrs.  Henderson's  name  had  appeared  among 
the  patronesses  of  a  dance  at  the  Biltmore.  In  con- 
sequence, with  masculine  logic,  they  resented  Mrs. 
Henderson  a  bit.  They  were  very  polite  to  her  when 
she  appeared  among  them,  but  they  gave  her  at- 
tempt at  making  a  living  about  a  week  in  which  to 
collapse. 

14-6 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


Although  Anne  did  not  understand  it,  she  was 
sensitive  to  this  atmosphere  of  waiting  to  be  shown. 
She  was,  therefore,  pleased  out  of  all  proportion  when 
Maggie's  work  was  given  to  her  and  Charley  Drier- 
son  took  her  education  in  charge. 

It  was  the  best  thing  that  could  have  happened  to 
Anne.  For  Charley  Drierson  knew  the  construction 
business  from  A  to  Z.  It  was  his  passion,  his  hobby, 
it  was  like  his  wife  and  friend  to  him.  It  was  said 
of  him  that  he  left  the  office  with  reluctance  at  five- 
thirty  and  was  waiting  to  get  in  when  the  janitor 
came  to  clean  in  the  morning.  It  was  incredible  to 
him  that  any  one  should  not  feel  the  same  interest 
in  the  minutest  details  of  the  organization  that  he 
felt;  slovenliness  of  work  was  a  sin,  and  a  mistake 
was  a  crime.  He  undertook  the  training  of  Anne 
grimly  —  he  did  not  hold  much  with  women  in  busi- 
ness, he  said.  Ricky  he  had  a  certain  amount  of 
respect  for,  because  Ricky  knew  her  job.  But 
Anne's  abilities  he  profoundly  mistrusted. 

At  first  he  frightened  Anne  out  of  her  wits,  then 
he  roused  her  resentment,  and  finally  her  pride  came 

147 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


to  her  rescue.  This  happened  after  she  had  made 
her  first  serious  mistake.  She  mailed  an  original 
detail  instead  of  a  revised  detail  to  a  subcontractor, 
and  the  mistake  was  not  discovered  until  the  man 
had  wasted  a  hundred  dollars'  worth  of  work  on  his 
contract.  He  came  boiling  up  to  the  office,  and  there 
followed  a  seething  fifteen  minutes  during  which  every 
one  sidestepped  Charlie  Drierson's  wrath  until  there 
was  no  one  left  to  blame  but  Anne.  She  learned 
in  that  fearful  moment  how  it  is  of  no  avail  in  busi- 
ness merely  to  be  a  lady.  After  the  first  explosion 
Charlie  Drierson  came  and  leaned  over  her,  strug- 
gling heavily  to  be  patient  while  he  explained  exactly 
the  sacrilege  she  had  committed. 

"  You  gotta  think,  Mrs.  Henderson.  You  gotta 
take  enough  interest  in  every  job  we  got  on  hand  so 
that  you  keep  track  of  the  changes  that  are  being 
made.  You  want  to  remember  that  every  time  the 
Owner  and  the  Architect  get  together  they  change 
their  minds  —  they  got  nothing  else  to  do.  That 
means  a  change  in  one  of  the  full-sized  details.  Now, 
what  you  did  was  to  file  the  revised  F.  S.  D.  and  send 

148 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


out  the  old  one.  See?  "  He  repeated  this  several 
times  and  rubbed  it  in. 

"  I  couldn't  make  out  the  marks  in  the  corner," 
said  Anne,  her  lips  quivering  a  little ;  "  you  said  to 
send  Flannigan  a  full-size  detail,  and  I  thought  —  I 
thought " 

"  Well,  you  didn't  think  hard  enough,"  retorted 
Drierson,  sarcastically.  "  See  that  mark?  That 
means  revised.  Didn't  you  hear  us  all  kicking  around 
here  last  week  about  having  to  revise  that  ceiling  de- 
tail? Didn't  you  know  that  the  boys  worked  over- 
time to  do  it?  Didn't  you  see  the  Architect  up  here 
sweating  under  the  collar  about  it?  Didn't  you 
hear  me  swearing  on  the  book  I'd  get  it  off  Thursday  ? 
And  yet  you  didn't  take  enough  interest  to  see  that 
Flannigan  got  the  right  detail  after  all  the  talking 
you'd  heard  about  it." 

"I  —  didn't  notice,"  stammered  Anne,  faintly. 

She  was  horribly  afraid  she  was  going  to  cry. 
Then,  when  she  had  conquered  the  lump  in  her  throat 
she  wanted  to  put  on  her  hat  and  go  out,  never  to 
come  back  again.  But  a  voice  within  her  said: 

149 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


"  Roger  went  through  all  this,  over  and  over  —  and 
he  stuck." 

That  noon  she  cut  her  lunch  time  to  twenty  min- 
utes. She  came  back  and  put  in  the  rest  of  the 
hour  going  through  every  detail  she  could  lay  her 
hands  on  about  that  particular  contract  —  a  big 
country  house  on  Long  Island.  It  was  then  that  she 
began  to  get  an  idea  of  the  business  as  a  whole.  Up 
to  this  time  her  understanding  had  been  swamped  in 
the  vast  number  of  small  tasks  that  came  under  her 
observation ;  but  now  she  seemed  to  catch  hold  of  a 
thread  that  led  her  through  the  labyrinth  from  the 
first  plan  submitted  to  the  final  details.  She  had  the 
normal  woman's  interest  in  house-building,  but  she 
had  never  had  the  slightest  conception  of  what  went 
into  the  building  of  a  house.  She  knew  now  that 
besides  the  details  she  had  seen,  there  were  others 
—  estimates,  reams  of  correspondence,  drawings, 
filed  away.  And  this  one  house  was  but  a  small  part 
of  the  business  of  the  firm,  which  had  built  office 
buildings,  factories,  docks,  theaters.  For  the  es- 
timates on  much  of  this  work  Roger  had  been  re- 

150 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


sponsible.  For  three  years  he  had  been  the  head  of 
his  department,  the  weight  of  that  important  unit 
had  rested  on  his  shoulders.  There  began  to  mingle 
with  her  thought  of  Roger  a  new  and  odd  respect. 
It  seemed  incredible  to  her  that  she  could  ever  have 
been  so  serenely  unaware  of  what  Roger  was  doing 
between  the  time  he  left  her  in  the  morning  and  his 
reappearance  at  six-thirty.  For  now  these  details 
were  real  things  to  her,  things  to  have  frightened 
dreams  about  at  night,  and  to  struggle  with  during 
the  day. 

"  I  don't  know  how  I  can  ever  keep  it  up,"  she 
thought. 

But  she  went  on,  filing  plans,  sending  out  details, 
taking  off  long  columns  of  unintelligible  figures  from 
blue  prints,  day  after  day.  Only  now  she  was  wak- 
ing up,  she  was  beginning  to  see  some  connection  be- 
tween her  special  tasks  and  the  work  as  a  whole. 
Once  she  said  to  Charley  Drierson  that  she  would 
like  to  see  one  of  the  buildings,  the  plans  for  which 
she  had  handled  day  after  day,  in  process  of  con- 
struction. Tremendously  gratified,  he  took  her 

151 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


across  town  to  where  a  half-finished  office  building 
reared  its  steel  skeleton.  Steam  riveters  were  rat- 
tatting  like  machine  guns,  a  hoisting  engine  was  puff- 
ing away,  masons  were  tapping  cheerfully  on  the 
mounting  courses  of  brick.  A  beatific  light  shone  in 
Charley  Drierson's  face.  He  took  her  up  and  up 
as  far  as  it  was  safe  for  a  woman  to  go,  and  explained 
and  expounded  the  minutest  details  of  that  building 
down  to  the  foundation  piers.  Anne  was  fascinated. 
Seeing  that  she  was  genuinely  interested  he  then 
took  her  a  few  blocks  uptown  to  an  old  building  they 
were  making  over  into  a  modern  apartment  house, 
and  with  the  same  thoroughness  he  showed  her  what 
they  were  doing  here.  She  was  surprised  to  find 
herself  thinking  that  this  was  what  she  would  like  to 
do  if  she  were  a  man.  To  reclaim  and  reconstruct 
—  this  was  something  that  awakened  her  imagina- 
tion. She  began  to  ask  Drierson  questions :  Were 
there  any  books  she  could  read  on  construction  work? 
Would  the  technical  magazines  do  her  any  good? 
How  would  he  advise  her  to  start  in  to  learn  some- 

152 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


thing  about  the  practical  side  of  reconstruction,  for 
instance?  .  .  . 

But  Charley  Drierson  backed  away  from  the  sub- 
ject of  book  knowledge.  He  himself  had  learned  the 
business  from  timekeeper  up  by  hard  experience. 
Routine  office  work  was  the  only  field  he  was  willing 
to  admit  accessible  to  a  woman.  And  when  Anne 
talked  with  Ricky,  Ricky  gave  it  as  her  opinion  that 
Mrs.  Henderson  would  never  make  a  stenographer 
or  bookkeeper.  Good  office  workers  are  caught 
young. 

"  If  I'd  only  had  some  real  training  instead  of  a 
foolish  finishing  school !  "  Anne  mourned.  She  and 
Ricky  were  having  lunch  together  perched  on  two 
stools  in  front  of  a  soda  water  fountain.  It  had 
taken  some  wooing  to  get  Ricky  to  the  point  of  go- 
ing out  to  lunch  with  her,  but  Anne,  hungry  for  talk 
with  any  one,  had  persisted,  and  had  come  finally 
to  respect  Ricky  amazingly.  "  If  I  ever  have  a 
daughter,"  Anne  went  on,  "  she  is  going  to  be  taught 
to  make  her  own  living.  She'll  appreciate  her  hus- 

153 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


band  better,  anyway,  and  she'll  be  able  to  make  him 
appreciate  her  better  too." 

"  You've  said  something,"  commented  Ricky,  her 
mouth  full  of  marshmallow  sundae.  "  But  there's  no 
reason  why  you  shouldn't  advance,  even  if  you 
haven't  had  training.  There's  outside  work  that 
always  has  to  be  done  for  the  firm,  you  know." 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  outside  work?  " 

"  Following  up  a  prospect,  talking  with  owners 
about  new  work.  Tommy  Greeley  used  to  do  that 
before  he  took  Mr.  Henderson's  place.  I've  often 
thought  that  a  woman  could  do  that  as  well  as  a  man. 
Of  course,  she'd  have  to  know  enough  about  construc- 
tion work  to  talk  intelligently.  A  couple  of  years 
ago  I  could  have  taken  up  that  line  myself,  but  I'm 
no  good  at  meeting  people.  I  like  office  work  better. 
But  you've  got  manners  and  you  know  how  to  talk 
—  you  could  sell  'most  anything  if  you  got  interested 
in  it." 

Anne  thought  a  good  deal  about  this  little  con- 
versation with  Ricky.  As  the  summer  advanced  she 
had  become  more  contented  with  her  situation.  She 

154 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


found  that  with  her  allowance  and  wages  she  could 
live  a  bit  more  comfortably  and  she  had  moved  to  a 
first-class  boarding  house  farther  uptown,  where  her 
room  was  very  tiny  but  clean  and  comfortable,  with  a 
good  reading  lamp,  a  shelf  for  books  and  a  bath  she 
shared  with  another  business  woman.  At  first  the 
evenings  had  been  terribly  lonely  and  depressing,  but 
slowly  she  began  to  rediscover  the  world  of  books. 
She  had  always  been  fond  of  reading,  but  what  with 
her  friends,  the  house,  the  shops,  bridge,  dancing  and 
the  multitudinous  nothings  of  her  days,  she  had 
read  very  little  except  an  occasional  new  novel  and 
the  "  smart  "  magazines  since  her  marriage.  In  the 
first  year  of  their  marriage  she  and  Roger  had  read 
many  books  together,  but  they  had  let  the  habit 
lapse  as  their  social  lives  became  more  complicated. 
Whenever  they  had  a  rare  evening  unoccupied,  Roger 
buried  himself  in  the  papers  and  she  pored  over  her 
magazines  for  a  new  entree  or  a  new  story  for  the 
dinner  she  was  giving  next  week.  There  were  a 
number  of  books  she  had  meant  for  years  to  read. 
She  now  hunted  up  her  long  disused  card  to  the 

155 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


public  library  and  fell  into  the  habit  of  stopping  in 
for  a  book  on  the  way  home  from  work.  Most  of 
them  were  novels  interspersed  with  a  popular  book 
on  the  war;  but  latterly  a  technical  book  or  two 
began  to  creep  in.  She  was  beginning  to  want  to 
know  something  solid  about  this  business  at  which 
she  was  earning  a  salary,  at  which  Roger  had  earned 
one  for  so  many  years.  She  was  not  obliged  to 
choose  her  technical  diet  altogether  blindly,  for 
among  the  men  she  became  acquainted  with  in  the 
drafting-room  was  one  who  differed  from  Charley 
Drierson  in  that  he  believed  in  book  knowledge.  He 
had  had  two  years  at  a  technology  school,  and  had 
been  obliged  to  stop  for  lack  of  funds.  He  had  many 
of  the  qualities  of  the  good  student,  and  gave  her 
from  time  to  time  the  names  of  books  carefully 
adapted  to  her  lack  of  foundational  training.  Some- 
times they  bored  her,  especially  at  first.  As  she 
struggled  with  them  she  felt  as  if  her  brain  were 
like  a  long  unused  muscle;  it  grew  sore  and  weary 
and  rebelled  against  the  unusual  demands  put  upon 
it.  But  slowly  she  found  that  she  was  beginning 

156 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


to  enjoy  some  of  them;  they  provided  little  paths  of 
understanding  through  the  forest  of  blue  prints  and 
specifications  that  had  at  first  seemed  to  her  a  hope- 
less jungle. 

But  of  definite  aim  in  all  this  she  had  at  first  very 
little.  She  had  instinctively  reached  out  for  some- 
thing to  save  herself  from  loneliness  and  a  sense  of 
incompetency.  She  was  still  to  a  certain  extent 
marking  time  merely.  Her  thoughts  very  often  flew 
ahead  to  the  time  when  Roger  should  come  back  and 
she  should  be  once  more  established  in  her  own  home, 
with  whole  delicious  days  of  semi-idleness  before  her. 
But  as  the  time  wore  on  she  thought  less  about  her 
future  as  Roger's  wife  and  more  about  her  present 
as  a  wage-earner  in  that  organization  of  which  she 
had  become  a  part.  Because,  in  spite  of  herself, 
she  was  becoming  absorbed,  she  was  beginning  to  feel 
the  fascination  of  a  world  in  which  no  one  can  stand 
still  and  survive.  All  about  her,  day  by  day,  she 
heard  the  talk  of  men  who  were  creating,  intensely, 
avidly.  She  heard  talk  of  the  building  of  canton- 
ments, hospitals,  factories,  she  saw  how  men  like 

157 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


Charley  Drierson,  even  young  Tommy  Greeley,  threw 
every  ounce  of  themselves  into  the  game,  striving  for 
something  that  was  beyond  salary.  They  were  liv- 
ing, powerful  factors  in  the  growth  of  the  world. 
There  streamed  from  them  something  electrical  that 
made  the  air  tingle;  she  felt  it  long  before  she  had 
reached  the  office  in  the  mornings  —  it  streamed  from 
the  crowds  of  young  and  middle-aged  business  men 
coming  downtown  in  the  subway,  on  the  elevated;  it 
reached  out  and  touched  her  imagination ;  it  touched 
her  never  awakened  ambition,  and  slowly  she  began 
to  envy  these  men  who  had  the  password,  who  were 
in  the  game,  who  had  been  trained  from  the  time  they 
could  talk  to  shoulder  their  shares  of  the  responsi- 
bilities of  the  world. 

With  envy  there  began  to  come  to  her  the  spirit 
of  emulation ;  her  pride  awoke ;  she  began  to  feel  a 
dissatisfaction  with  being  a  mere  mechanical  earner 
of  wages.  This  awakening  of  her  pride  was  helped 
along  by  the  letter  she  received  from  Roger  in  an- 
swer to  the  one  in  which  she  told  him  that  she  was 
working  for  the  Leavitt  Company.  If  she  had  writ- 

158 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


ten  Roger  that  she  had  gone  on  the  stage  he  could 
not  have  been  more  astonished.  It  was  plain  that 
he  had  never  thought  of  his  wife  as  a  money-earning 
potentiality  in  his  own  line  of  work,  and  it  was 
equally  plain  that  he  suspected  the  boss  of  giving 
her  a  job  out  of  sheer  goodness  of  heart.  This 
amused  Anne,  but  at  the  same  time  it  stung  her 
pride.  She  knew  that  she  was  earning  every  cent  in 
her  pay  envelope,  but  it  was  undoubtedly  true  that 
she  could  be  replaced  at  a  moment's  notice.  She  was 
beginning  to  feel  that  she  should  like  to  be  valuable 
to  the  firm ;  she  should  like  to  be  a  thinking  part  of 
the  organization. 

Her  first  chance  came,  as  chances  are  likely  to 
come,  in  a  very  natural,  unobtrusive  way,  in  fact  it 
was  so  much  a  part  of  the  day's  work  that  she  might 
have  missed  it  entirely  had  it  not  been  for  her  con- 
versation over  lunch  with  Ricky.  There  was  an  old 
lady  named  Van  Deusen,  who  had  turned  over  to  the 
Leavitt  people  some  alterations  she  wanted  made  in 
her  old  house  near  Sheridan  Square.  They  had 
drawn  the  plans  and  one  day  Charley  Drierson  sent 

159 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


Anne  to  Mrs.  Van  Deusen  with  a  set  of  them.  The 
old  lady  still  clung  to  the  family  home,  around  which 
the  tide  of  Italians,  Greeks  and  Greenwich  Village 
studios  was  rising.  She  also  owned  three  other 
houses  in  the  same  neighborhood.  The  day  Anne 
saw  her  she  was  just  recovering  from  a  frightful 
fit  of  temper  because  she  had  learned  that  the  tenants 
were  about  to  move  from  one  of  these  houses  unless 
she  made  certain  expensive  repairs. 

"  I'll  see  'em  in  the  ditch  first ! "  she  cried.  She 
was  quite  a  modern  old  lady  in  some  ways  and  used 
vigorous  language  when  aroused.  "  I'd  give  those 
houses  away  if  I  could  find  some  one  I  hated  bad 
enough,  pesky  things,  costing  me  more  than  they 
bring  in,  rilin'  me  up  about  once  a  month." 

It  was  then  that  Anne  recalled  what  Ricky  had 
said  about  creating  new  business.  "  Why  don't  you 
have  them  made  over  into  modern  studio  apart- 
ments? "  she  asked.  "  This  is  the  neighborhood  for 
that  class  of  building." 

"  Thought  of  that,"  replied  Mrs.  Van  Deusen. 
"  Had  a  man  here  once  talkin'  to  me  about  it.  We 

160 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


didn't  get  anywhere.     I  didn't  like  the  way  he  pro- 
nounced aeroplane." 

Anne  remembered  that  Charley  Drierson  had  said 
the  old  lady  was  a  "  nut,"  so  she  laughed  and  changed 
the  subject  by  admiring  a  beautiful  Spode  teapot  on 
a  butterfly  table. 

"  Give  you  some  tea  out  of  it,"  said  the  old  lady 
abruptly.  She  rang.  "  Sarah,  make  some  of  that 
fussy  toast  of  yours,  and  bring  in  the  damson  jam." 

Anne  knew  that  she  had  taken  a  step  past  the  old 
lady's  formidable  portals.  They  had  a  very  jolly 
little  tea  in  front  of  a  little  clear  fire  and  suddenly 
Mrs.  Van  Deusen  stopped  in  the  middle  of  relating 
how  she  had  once  been  to  the  Winter  Garden,  and 
demanded  to  know  what  Anne  really  thought  about 
making  over  those  three  houses  of  hers. 

Anne  did  some  quick  thinking.  "  Mrs.  Van 
Deusen,  suppose  you  give  me  complete  data  concern- 
ing your  present  rentals,  taxes,  running  expenses  and 
repairs  and  let  me  figure  it  out  for  you  approxi- 
mately how  you  would  stand  on  such  a  proposi- 
tion?" 

161 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


"  Don't  mind  doing  that,  but  I  don't  commit  my- 
self, mind  you ! " 

"  Surely  not !  It's  merely  an  idea  of  my  own  I'd 
like  to  work  out,  and  I'll  give  you  the  benefit  of  it 
without  any  obligation  on  your  side." 

Anne  half  expected  never  to  hear  from  Mrs.  Van 
Deusen  again,  but  in  a  few  days  the  old  lady  sent  for 
her  to  give  her  a  statement  from  her  lawyer  which 
contained  the  facts  Anne  needed  to  go  on  with.  She 
went  straight  to  her  friend,  Charley  Drierson,  with 
them,  explained  the  situation  and  asked  him  if  he 
would  go  with  her  after  office  hours  and  look  the 
houses  over. 

"  I  thought  I'd  like  to  get  all  my  data  in  hand  be- 
fore I  put  it  up  to  Mr.  Leavitt,"  she  added.  "  I  may 
find  it's  not  worth  while." 

"  Oho !  Doing  something  on  the  side  ? "  he 
laughed. 

"Well,  don't  you  think  I  might?"  she  asked,  a 
trifle  defiantly. 

"  Sure !  Go  to  it !  Anything  I  can  do  to  help  you 
out  I'm  glad  to  do.  We'll  go  down  there  to-morrow." 

162 


CHAPTER  IX 

THE  inspection  of  the  three  Van  Deusen 
houses  took  place  next  day  after  office  hours, 
and  it  marked  for  Anne  the  beginning  of  the 
first  sense  of  herself  as  a  real  factor  in  the  business 
life  of  her  employer.  As  she  and  Charley  Drierson 
went  over  the  three  houses  she  examined  them  criti- 
cally and  eagerly,  because  they  meant  to  her  more 
than  three  old  houses  that  were  possibly  to  be  recon- 
structed —  they  meant  her  first  genuine  chance. 
She  listened  to  Charley  Drierson's  comments  and 
made  careful  notes  and  sketches  for  her  own  benefit 
—  the  original  plans  of  the  houses  they  had  already 
obtained  after  some  difficulty. 

She  knew  that  without  Drierson's  aid  she  could 
have  done  little  because  of  her  lack  of  practical  ex- 
perience, and  she  let  him  see  that  she  appreciated  his 
interest.  A  building  problem  was  meat  and  drink 

163 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


to  him,  but  it  was  also  something  new  in  his  experi- 
ence to  have  a  woman  —  and  a  charming  one !  —  ex- 
hibit an  interest  in  what  was  his  whole  life.  He 
volunteered  graciously  to  make  an  estimate  for  her  on 
a  tentative,  rough  set  of  plans  they  worked  out  to- 
gether. By  the  end  of  two  weeks  she  had  plans  and 
estimates  in  hand,  and  the  idea  was  now  ready  to  put 
before  the  boss. 

She  found  that  she  had  to  conquer  a  sudden  self- 
distrust  when  it  came  down  actually  to  going  into 
Mr.  Leavitt's  private  office  and  saying :  "  I  want 
to  become  something  more  than  a  clerk,  and  here  is 
my  justification ! " 

But,  after  hesitating  the  best  part  of  the  day,  she 
finally  took  her  courage  in  her  hand  —  along  with 
her  sketches  and  estimates  —  and,  finding  out  from 
Ricky  when  he  was  free,  she  walked  into  his  office 
and  plunged  abruptly  into  what  she  had  to  say. 
After  all,  it  was  easier  than  she  had  thought  it  would 
be.  The  boss's  eyes  changed,  as  she  went  on,  from 
a  polite  abstracted  gaze  to  a  keen  expression  of  in- 
terest. The  suggestion  she  put  up  to  him  was 

164 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


simple,  so  simple  that  she  had  been  afraid  from  the 
first  the  ground  had  already  been  covered  by  some 
one  else.  It  was  that  she  should  become  a  sort  of 
digger-up  of  new  business  for  the  firm.  She  knew 
from  Ricky  and  Drierson  that  this  had  been  the  func- 
tion of  Tommy  Greeley,  but  she  believed  that  she 
could  give  a  new  interpretation  to  the  task. 

"  You  think  there  are  a  good  many  owners  lying 
around  loose  who  would  build  or  rebuild  or  make 
over  if  they  were  properly  jogged  up  to  do  so?" 
Leavitt  asked,  smiling  a  little  as  he  looked  from  the 
papers  she  had  put  before  him  to  her  intent  face. 

"  Yes,  that's  the  idea,"  she  assented  eagerly. 
"  Like  Mrs.  Van  Deusen,  for  instance.  Her  income 
from  those  three  houses  barely  covers  taxes  and  re- 
pairs, and  yet  she  has  slipped  along  from  year  to 
year  for  lack  of  some  one  to  put  before  her  con- 
cretely and  persuasively  a  plan  by  which  she  could 
increase  the  value  of  her  property  and  the  income 
from  it.  It  isn't  that  she  hasn't  the  money  to  invest, 
either,  for  I've  looked  her  up." 

Leavitt  smiled  again.  "  You  seem  to  have  covered 
165 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


the  ground  pretty  well.  Drierson  made  these  esti- 
mates, didn't  he?  " 

"  Yes,  he  was  awfully  good  about  it." 

"  Charley's  a  good  chap,  thorough  and  all  that. 
If  he  had  a  little  more  imagination  —  well!  in  this 
case  it  was  your  imagination  and  his  experience, 
eh?  " 

He  studied  the  estimates  a  moment  longer,  then 
abruptly  pushed  them  aside  and  rang  for  Ricky. 
"  I'll  see  you  again  in  a  day  or  two,  Mrs.  Hender- 
son," was  all  he  said.  Anne  went  out  feeling  rather 
rebuffed. 

But  after  five  that  afternoon  she  went  down  to  the 
Village  and  looked  at  Mrs.  Van  Deusen's  houses 
again.  She  had  begun  to  feel  that  they  were  her 
houses.  She  could  see  them  reconstructed,  with 
quaint  fronts  and  window-boxes,  the  sort  of  thing 
that  attracted  the  apartment-hunting  woman.  One 
of  the  basements,  which  had  been  a  thorn  in  the  flesh 
of  Charley  Drierson  because  he  could  do  nothing 
with  it  in  the  way  of  profitable  living  quarters,  she 
knew  could  be  rented  to  a  florist.  She  had  a  man 

166 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


in  mind  who  had  been  advertising  for  weeks  for  a 
shop  in  that  locality.  She  went  to  see  him,  found 
out  approximately  what  he  would  pay  and  how  long 
a  lease  he  would  sign.  Then  she  went  home,  excited 
and  hungry. 

It  seemed  to  her  a  long  time  before  Leavitt  sent 
for  her.  He  had  evidently  gone  into  the  matter 
somewhat  carefully,  for  he  had  made  a  few  changes 
in  the  rough  plan  and  Drierson  had  revised  his  esti- 
mates. 

"  I  think  I'll  let  you  try  this  out,  Mrs.  Hender- 
son," he  said.  "  On  this  basis  you  can  try  your  per- 
suasive powers  on  Mrs.  Van  Deusen.  If  you  get  her 
to  the  point  where  she  definitely  makes  up  her  mind 
to  rebuild,  you  can  turn  her  over  to  me.  But  the 
thing  is  up  to  you,  you  understand,  until  that  point 
is  reached.  I'm  too  busy  to  be  bothered  with  it,  and 
of  course  it  is  out  of  Drierson's  line.  If  you  land 
her,  come  back.  If  not  —  that's  all  there  is  to  it." 

She  was  shaking  with  excitement  next  day  when  she 
went  to  see  old  Mrs.  Van  Deusen.  She  had  no  idea 
what  was  the  technique  of  "  landing "  a  new  con- 

167 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


tract,  but  she  had  a  desperate  feeling  that  she  must 
do  it,  somehow.  It  seemed  to  her  she  had  never 
wanted  anything  so  much  in  her  life  as  that  con- 
tract. The  old  lady  was  in  a  bland  and  social  mood ; 
utterly  ignoring  the  roll  of  blue  prints  in  Anne's 
hand  she  poured  tea  from  the  Spode  teapot  and  re- 
galed her  guest  with  a  lively  account  of  an  auction 
sale  she  had  been  to  the  day  before. 

"  I  never  buy  anything,"  she  said,  "  I  only  go  be- 
cause my  daughters  hate  to  have  me.  They  want 
me  to  stay  home  and  own  up  that  I'm  seventy." 

"  They'll  want  that  more  than  ever  when  you  be- 
gin to  make  over  those  houses  on  Charlton  Street," 
Anne  slipped  in. 

The  old  lady  stared,  and  then  chuckled.  "  Hadn't 
thought  of  that!  It  would  make  'em  nervous, 
wouldn't  it?" 

"  Undoubtedly !  Would  you  like  to  see  what  the 
houses  are  going  to  look  like?" 

Before  the  old  lady  could  reply,  Anne  had  spread 
out  her  plans  with  a  drawing  of  the  reconstructed 
front  of  the  houses  artfully  on  top.  It  was  a  pencil 

168 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


sketch  done  by  a  clever  young  chap  Drierson  had 
commandeered,  and  it  showed  the  window  boxes  in 
full  bloom  underneath  the  quaint,  small-paned  win- 
dows. 

"What's  this?" 

"  Why,  your  three  old  houses !  This  is  the  way 
they'll  look  when  we've  finished  with  them." 

"  Really !  My  word !  Those  old  houses  that  al- 
ways looked  as  if  they'd  had  a  Unitarian  preacher  for 
an  architect!  They  look  quite  gay,  don't  they?  " 

"  Stunning !     And  here  is  the  first  floor.  .  .  ." 

When  Anne  went  out  two  hours  later  into  the 
wintry  evening,  she  walked  on  air,  for  she  had 
"  landed  "  Mrs.  Van  Deusen.  The  old  lady,  com- 
pletely enthralled  by  the  blue-prints,  had  telephoned 
her  lawyer  in  Anne's  presence  for  an  appointment 
on  the  morrow,  after  which  she  was  to  see  Mr. 
Leavitt  and  go  into  further  details.  Anne  felt  cer- 
tain the  work  was  going  through.  She  had  never 
been  happier  in  her  life  before,  happy  with  a  con- 
sciousness of  power,  of  resourcefulness.  If  this  went 
through,  she  could  go  on ;  she  knew  there  was  a  field 

169 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


for  exactly  the  sort  of  thing  she  had  in  mind. 
Building  on  a  large  scale  was  practically  at  a  stand- 
still in  New  York  on  account  of  the  priority  of  war 
orders  and  the  scarcity  of  steel ;  but  there  was  an  in- 
creasing demand  for  apartment  houses,  very  few 
having  been  built  in  over  a  year.  The  building  opera- 
tions she  wanted  to  stimulate  owners  to  undertake 
would  require  little  steel,  comparatively  small  capital, 
and  they  would  tide  over  the  slack  period  for  the 
Leavitt  Company.  She  could  not  have  found  a  more 
propitious  time  to  work  out  her  new  ideas. 

As  she  ate  her  supper  at  her  boarding  house  she 
thought  of  these  points  and  in  her  mind  began  to 
make  a  list  of  neighborhoods  for  immediate  survey. 
She  wanted  to  write  a  long  and  excited  letter  to 
Roger;  but  on  second  thought  she  decided  to  wait 
until  she  could  make  absolutely  sure  of  her  first 
client  —  she  was  learning  not  to  act  on  her  first  im- 
pulse ! 

It  was  several  days  before  Leavitt  sent  for  her, 
but  when  he  did,  he  said  as  soon  as  she  appeared  in 
the  door  of  his  office :  "  Congratulations,  Mrs. 

170 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


Henderson!  We  have  the  Van  Deusen  job,  all  right. 
You  had  the  proposition  so  well  worked  out  it  didn't 
take  us  long  to  get  it  pinned  down.  What  is  your 
next  proposal?  " 

"  Two  more  old  houses,  very  much  like  the  Van 
Deusen  ones.  I've  been  looking  at  them  for  a  week. 
If  you  like,  I'll  get  the  preliminary  data  about 
them." 

He  nodded.  "  Go  ahead.  And,  by  the  way,  tell 
Drierson  to  find  another  girl  to  help  with  the  filing. 
That  will  give  you  more  time.  Suppose  you  have  a 
desk  put  in  Miss  Rickman's  room  for  yourself. 
You'll  need  a  place  to  keep  your  reference  files,  the 
real  estate  periodicals,  and  all  that.  We'll  work 
out  a  system  for  you,  if  we  find  it's  going  to  be  worth 
while." 

Anne  managed  to  get  out  of  the  room  without 
showing  how  ridiculously  pleased  she  was,  but  when 
she  had  reached  Miss  Rickman's  room  she  closed  the 
door,  and  to  Ricky's  astonishment  she  threw  her  arm 
around  Ricky's  shoulder  and  hugged  her. 

"  I'm  to  have  a  desk  of  my  very  own,"  she  chanted, 
171 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


"  and  a  girl  to  help  with  the  filing,  and  I'm  to  go 
ahead  and  try  out  my  own  ideas !  " 

Ricky's  plain,  clever  face  beamed  with  genuine  de- 
light. But  she  was  practical  to  the  core.  "  Did  you 
ask  for  a  raise?  "  she  demanded. 

Anne  admitted  that  she  hadn't  thought  of  it.  But 
in  her  envelope  at  the  end  of  the  week  she  found  an 
increase  —  not  large  enough  to  turn  her  head,  but 
quite  large  enough  to  make  her  feel  like  prancing. 
That  night  she  wrote  to  Roger  that  the  boss  had 
raised  her  wages,  but  she  did  not  tell  him  why.  She 
wanted  to  feel  her  way  first,  to  make  sure  she  had 
got  hold  of  something  that  was  not  merely  a  shallow 
vein. 

About  a  month  before  this  Emma  and  Henry  had 
returned  to  town  for  the  winter.  Emma  had  immedi- 
ately tried  to  persuade  Anne  to  give  up  the  boarding 
house  and  come  to  live  with  her.  She  also  let  Anne 
know  that  she  considered  her  foolish  and  inconsider- 
ate to  keep  on  working  when  there  was  no  real  neces- 
sity for  it. 

"  Henry  doesn't  like  it  at  all,"  she  said  in  her  de- 
172 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


cided  tones.  "  People  will  think  he  hasn't  been  will- 
ing to  give  you  a  home.  Ada  Kent  looked  very  queer 
the  other  day  when  I  told  her  you  weren't  with  us." 

"  Considering  that  Ada  let  the  summer  and  fall  go 
by  without  looking  me  up,  I  don't  think  we  need  to 
consider  her,  do  you?  "  Anne  laughed.  "  I'm  sorry 
to  hurt  Henry's  feelings,  but  honestly  I  don't  see 
how  I  can  let  his  feelings  interfere  with  my  per- 
fectly good  job.  You  know,  Emma,  I  have  to  face 
the  fact  that  Roger  may  not  come  back.  And  if  he 
doesn't,  I  can't  live  with  Henry  the  rest  of  my  life, 
can  I?" 

"  You've  changed,  Anne,"  observed  Emma,  plain- 
tively. "  You  are  going  to  get  hard  and  masculine, 
being  in  business.  And  what  is  the  use?  " 

Anne  looked  at  her  sister,  started  to  reply,  and 
then  it  came  to  her  that  she  could  not  make  Emma 
understand.  Emma  had  had  first  a  father  and  then 
a  husband  to  stand  between  her  and  the  jolts  of  life; 
her  whole  existence  had  been  carefully  upholstered. 
She  had  never  known  anything  of  the  terrors  of  ex- 
posure to  the  grimness  of  life,  but  neither  had  she 

173 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


ever  known  anything  of  the  true  elixir  of  the  strug- 
gle. Anne  realized  for  the  first  time  how  different 
her  point  of  view  had  become  in  the  last  year.  And 
she  knew  that  in  spite  of  loneliness  and  lack  of  the 
luxuries  she  had  always  considered  essential  to  hap- 
piness, she  would  not  trade  places  in  the  scheme  of 
things  with  Emma.  Neither  did  she  want  to  hamper 
herself  with  Emma's  rules  of  life.  She  explained,  as 
tactfully  as  she  could,  that  it  was  much  better  all 
around,  for  the  time  being  at  least,  for  her  to  re- 
main as  she  was;  her  business  hours  would  interfere 
with  Emma's  domestic  routine,  and  she  had  no  time 
for  social  excursions.  Emma's  face  exhibited  a  droll 
mixture  of  relief  and  irritation.  She  knew  perfectly 
well  that  Anne  would  be  a  grain  of  dust  in  her  ex- 
quisite domestic  machinery,  going  to  business  at  eight 
in  the  morning  and  disagreeing  with  Henry  at  din- 
ner ;  but  at  the  same  time  she  did  want  her  little  world 
to  observe  how  patriotically  she  could  take  care  of 
a  soldier's  wife.  As  a  compromise  she  exacted  a 
promise  from  Anne  to  spend  at  least  her  Sundays 
with  them. 

174 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


It  was  at  one  of  these  Sunday  dinners  that  Anne 
told  Emma  and  Henry  about  her  increase  of  wages. 
She  took  a  certain  mischievous  delight  in  talking 
about  her  work  to  Henry,  for  Henry  always  looked 
pained  when  reminded  that  his  sister-in-law  was  being 
paid,  not  a  salary,  but  wages  by  a  man  who  belonged 
to  the  same  club  as  himself. 

"  Very  nice,"  he  said  in  his  neat  voice,  gazing  hard 
at  the  Sunday  roast  duck.  "  Very  kind  of  your  em- 
ployer." 

"  Kind,  nothing ! "  said  Anne,  rudely.  "  It's 
merely  an  acknowledgment  that  I'm  making  good  at 
my  job,  and  you're  business  man  enough  to  know  that 
perfectly  well,  Henry  dear !  " 

*'  What  does  Roger  think  about  your  working  for 
his  company?  "  Emma  interposed. 

Anne  laughed.  "  Poor  old  Roger !  He  seems  to 
be  a  little  like  Henry  —  he  thinks  it  is  very  kind  of 
the  firm  to  pay  me  wages.  He  never  thought  of  the 
Leavitt  Company  as  a  charitable  institution.  You 
see,  there's  many  a  man  who  doesn't  know  his  wife's 
possibilities."  She  shot  a  little  smile  at  Henry. 

175 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


"  But,  of  course,  when  he  comes  back  you'll  give 
up  this  work,"  remarked  Emma.  "  It  always  seems 
to  me  so  unsuitable,  a  married  woman  earning  money 
when  her  husband  is  alive  and  able  to  support  her." 

"  Unsuitable  perhaps  if  she  has  children.  But 
what  about  the  women  like  you  and  me  and  Ada  Kent 
who  haven't  any  children?  What  share  of  the 
world's  work  are  we  doing?  " 

Emma  sniffed,  and  Henry  averted  his  eyes  as  he 
always  did  when  a  conversation  threatened  to  veer 
toward  the  undraped  realities  of  existence.  Anne 
laughed. 

"  Don't  worry !  I  suppose  when  Roger  comes  back 
I  shall  be  glad  to  sag  down  on  his  poor  old  shoulders 
just  as  I've  always  done.  But  to-day  I  feel  like  hav- 
ing a  career  or  something.  You  see,  yesterday  I 
landed  about  fifty  thousand  dollars'  worth  of  busi- 
ness for  my  firm,  and  to-morrow  I'm  going  to  be  put 
on  a  commission  basis.  I  may  grow  wealthy  under 
your  very  eyes,  Henry !  " 

She  hid  her  exultation  under  a  laughing  tone,  but 
she  was  immensely  pleased  with  herself  that  day. 

176 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


For  she  had  made  another  "  killing "  within  three 
weeks  after  the  Van  Deusen  contract  and  she  sniffed 
a  third  in  the  same  neighborhood.  The  commission 
basis  had  been  Leavitt's  own  suggestion.  She  was 
to  remain  on  her  present  salary,  but  under  the  new 
arrangement  what  she  could  make  was  limited  only  by 
her  own  initiative,  energy  and  foresight. 

That  evening,  when  she  reached  the  room  she  called 
home,  she  fell  to  thinking  about  Emma's  question. 
When  Roger  came  home  would  they  settle  back  into 
their  old  way  of  life,  scrambling  along,  straining  to 
keep  up  with  the  procession  of  their  extravagant 
friends,  or  would  the  experiences  both  of  them  had 
been  through  make  a  difference  ?  Would  she  be  satis- 
fied to  go  back,  now,  to  that  semi-idle  existence,  which 
had  seemed  to  her  so  busy  and  important?  There 
were  some  features  of  that  life  she  missed,  the 
leisurely  hours  in  beautiful  shops,  the  two  or  three 
pretty  frocks  she  always  managed  somehow  to  have, 
time  to  take  exquisite  care  of  herself,  their  dainty 
little  dinners,  the  theater,  afternoon  tea  at  one  of  the 
gayest  hotels.  She  missed  these  things,  and  yet  not 

177 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


so  much  as  she  might  have  expected  to  miss  them. 
For  she  had  put  something  in  the  place  of  them  that 
gave  her  a  sense  of  satisfaction  she  had  never  known 
before.  But  Roger  —  how  much  did  the  sort  of  life 
they  had  led  before  he  went  away  mean  to  him? 

Turning  off  her  light  she  went  to  the  window  where 
she  stood  staring  down  into  the  street.  She  was  think- 
ing about  their  married  life,  hers  and  Roger's.  She 
had  said  to  herself  that  Roger  was  satisfied  with  her, 
but  behind  this  assurance  was  a  vague  uneasiness  that 
had  been  with  her  for  over  a  year.  She  thought  of 
their  one  or  two  distressing  quarrels,  but  she  dis- 
missed them  —  there  were  few  husbands  and  wives 
that  did  not  quarrel  sometimes.  What  she  could 
not  dismiss  was  a  remembrance  of  the  change  in 
Roger's  attitude  towards  her  —  a  change  indefinable 
and  evasive.  She  could  not  put  her  finger  on  it,  but 
it  was  there,  a  growing  indifference,  a  sort  of  taking 
for  granted  of  their  one  time  loverlike  ways.  There 
had  been  a  brief  return  of  a  passionate  tenderness 
between  them  just  before  Roger  finally  went  away, 
but  even  in  that  mood  there  was  also  a  kind  of 

178 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


estrangement.  It  was  as  if  Roger  had  been  preoc- 
cupied with  thoughts  in  which  she  had  no  part.  In 
her  heart  of  hearts  she  knew  she  could  understand 
that  preoccupation  of  Roger's  now.  She  could  un- 
derstand it  now  as  she  could  not  possibly  have  done 
six  months  before.  For  she  had  had  a  glimpse  into 
a  man's  world ;  she  appreciated  the  intensity  and  the 
bitterness  of  the  fight  that  is  constantly  going  on 
there,  and  she  could  gauge  the  burden  that  is  on 
the  shoulders  of  every  man  who  takes  his  responsi- 
bilities like  a  man. 

"  I  was  outside  the  real  and  important  part  of 
Roger's  life,"  she  thought.  "  Why  should  I  have 
been?  Was  it  my  fault,  or  his?  We  had  got  so  we 
never  seemed  to  have  anything  to  talk  about.  And 
yet,  now,  it  seems  as  if  we  would  have  everything  in 
the  world  to  talk  about  ...  I  think  I  could  under- 
stand Roger  better  now.  .  .  ." 

It  was  as  if  she  had  begun  slowly  to  make  the  ac- 
quaintance of  her  husband  when  she  began  to  earn 
her  living  in  the  place  and  in  much  the  same  circum- 
stances in  which  he  had  worked  so  long.  She  had  a 

179 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


new  and  odd  respect  for  him  now.  But  what  did  he 
really  think  of  her?  She  knew  that  she  no  longer 
merely  wanted  adoration,  pliancy  to  all  her  wishes; 
she  wanted  him  to  admire  her,  to  respect  her,  to  meet 
her  on  a  new  level  of  understanding. 


CHAPTER  X 

CHRISTMAS  came  and  passed  and  Anne 
plodded  on,  now  and  then  having  a  bril- 
liant piece  of  luck  that  brought  her  in  touch 
with  a  fine  new  "  prospect,"  now  and  then  finding  her- 
self in  a  blind  alley  that  led  nowhere  after  she  had 
worked  patiently  for  days ;  now  and  then  falling  down 
for  lack  of  experience,  but  picking  herself  up  and 
making  a  note  of  her  failure  for  future  reference. 
She  was  learning  all  the  time,  and  becoming  more 
absorbed  as  she  became  more  experienced.  She  was 
out  in  all  sorts  of  weather,  in  a  winter  notable  for 
vile  weather,  and  yet  she  had  never  been  so  well  in 
her  life.  She  was  deeply  grateful  for  the  work  that 
kept  her  too  busy  to  brood  or  worry,  for  she  knew, 
not  from  Roger's  letters,  but  from  the  papers,  that 
in  France  there  was  terrible  cause  for  anxiety. 
Roger  wrote  often,  cheerful  letters,  full  of  descrip- 

181 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


lions  of  the  American  soldiers,  what  they  talked  about 
in  the  gun-pits  and  how  they  looked  when  they  were 
cooking  their  supper  in  the  mud  of  the  trenches,  lively 
descriptions  of  the  building  of  roads  and  bridges,  and 
of  the  old  French  couple  where  he  was  billeted  early 
in  the  winter  who  marched  two  German  prisoners  off 
every  morning  to  work  on  their  farm.  They  were 
such  casual,  gossipy  letters  that  it  was  difficult  to 
visualize  them,  him,  as  a  part  of  the  hardships  and 
horrors  over  there.  And  yet,  sometimes,  perhaps 
when  she  was  walking  along  the  street,  or  waiting 
in  some  one's  office,  suddenly  her  heart  would  stand 
still  and  a  cold  horror  would  sweep  her  as  a  realiza- 
tion that  Roger  might  never  come  home  came  to  her. 
That  long  terrible  winter  she  was  one  of  many  thou- 
sands of  women  who  watched  the  casualty  list  be- 
ginning to  grow,  who  sometimes  felt  that  theirs  was 
the  almost  unbearable  part  of  war.  But  if  this  was 
bad,  how  much  worse  off  would  she  have  been  if  she 
were  idle,  with  time  to  brood,  to  indulge  her  imagina- 
tion? The  very  fact  that  she  had  learned  to  stand 
on  her  own  feet  financially  seemed  to  strengthen  her 

182 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


spirit,  to  give  her  a  fortitude  she  had  never  had  in 
her  life.  And  yet,  she  had  never  before  thought  so 
tenderly  nor  so  deeply  of  her  husband  as  she  did  now. 

As  if  all  this  deep  stream  of  new  thoughts  and  new 
emotions  that  flowed  underneath  her  working  life  was 
a  preparation  for  what  must  almost  inevitably  hap- 
pen, when  the  news  finally  came  to  her  that  Roger 
was  wounded  she  met  it  with  a  spirit  braced  not  to 
cry  out.  It  came  one  afternoon  just  as  the  working 
day  was  over.  Ricky  was  pinning  on  her  hat 
in  front  of  the  tiny  mirror  over  her  desk  —  Anne 
for  a  long  time  after  that  winced  when  she  saw 
Ricky  like  that,  with  a  hatpin  in  her  mouth  and  one 
hand  tucking  back  her  unruly  hair  —  and  the  other 
girls  had  gone  scurrying  into  the  outer  hall.  Anne 
had  just  said: 

"  Ricky,  I  saw  a  hat  in  that  little  shop  on  the 
corner  of  Thirty-ninth  that  would  look  stunning  on 
you  —  it  had  a  dark  green  bird  across  the  front  — 
you  could  wear  green  — "  when  Mr.  Leavitt  came  to 
the  door  of  their  room,  paused  on  the  threshold  and 
then  came  in,  closing  the  door  after  him.  Both  girls 

183 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


looked  up,  their  faces  setting,  as  if  already  they  had 
a  premonition  that  what  he  was  about  to  say  would 
bring  terror  into  that  quiet  room.  He  held  a  tele- 
gram in  his  hand,  and  he  said  quietly : 

"  Mrs.  Henderson,  I  am  afraid  I  hare  news  for 
you  that  will  frighten  you.  Roger  was  wounded 
yesterday  by  a  shell  explosion  in  the  town  where  he 
was  billeted.  But  he  cannot  have  been  rery  badly 
hurt  for  he  directed  that  the  news  should  be  sent 
you  through  me.  The  wire  simply  says  that  he  was 
wounded  and  has  been  sent  to  a  base  hospital." 

He  put  out  his  hand  and  took  hers ;  he  seemed  to 
her  so  far  away  that  his  touch  was  a  surprise  and 
she  looked  down  at  his  hand.  She  could  feel  Ricky's 
hand  on  her  arm  and  she  wondered  why  they  pressed 
so  close  to  her.  She  did  not  know  that  her  face  had 
turned  perfectly  white  and  the  pupils  of  her  eyes  had 
dilated  until  they  made  her  eyes  appear  black.  There 
was  at  first  one  sentence  darting  back  and  forth 
across  her  mind :  "  It  has  come  at  last  .  .  .  it  has 
come  ...  I  mustn't  let  them  see  how  I  feel  .  .  ." 

"  I'm  not  going  to  faint,"  she  said  in  a  voice  that 
184 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


sounded  queer  in  her  ears.     "  Please  read  the  tele- 
gram slowly  —  I  want  to  understand  .  .  ." 

Leavitt's  car  was  waiting  for  him,  and  presently 
he  took  her  uptown.  Her  immediate  instinct  had 
been  to  go  home  to  Emma.  She  forgot  in  that  mo- 
ment everything  except  the  fact  that  Emma  was  of 
her  own  flesh  and  blood ;  she  wanted  to  be  alone  with 
her  sister.  And  Emma  received  her  with  all  her  best 
qualities  uppermost;  she  took  her  in  charge  capably 
and  tenderly.  She  turned  Henry  out  of  his  own 
room  and  installed  Anne  there  so  that  she  could  be 
near  her  all  night.  They  left  the  business  of  obtain- 
ing further  details  and  verifications  to  Leavitt,  know- 
ing that  whatever  there  was  to  be  learned  he  could 
get.  And  then  there  remained  nothing  to  do  but 
wait. 

All  that  interminable  evening  they  sat  near  the 
telephone,  and  nothing  came.  At  bedtime  Emma 
forced  her  to  undress  and  lie  down  in  the  bed  next 
her  own.  It  was  towards  midnight  when  Anne  sat 
up  with  a  start.  "  I  thought  the  telephone  was  go- 
ing to  ring,"  she  whispered.  "  I  heard  a  click." 

185 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


"  Lie  down,  dear.  I'm  sure  Mr.  Leavitt  won't 
telephone  to-night.  It's  so  late  now.  But  first  thing 
in  the  morning  Henry  will  get  all  the  papers  — 
there's  sure  to  be  something  in  them,  or  perhaps  we'll 
have  a  message  direct  from  Roger.  You  must  try 
to  sleep,  to  save  your  strength,  Anne." 

Anne  lay  down  again,  but  she  did  not  close  her 
eyes,  which  were  brilliant  and  glassy.  Already  some 
of  the  youth  had  gone  out  of  her  face.  She  tried 
to  wrench  her  thoughts  away  from  that  moment  when 
she  had  faced  Leavitt  and  heard  him  say :  "  I'm 
afraid  I  have  bad  news  for  you,  Mrs.  Hender- 
son !  " 

All  her  life  seemed  cut  sharply  into  two  parts  by 
that  announcement.  Up  to  that  instant  she  had  been 
one  woman,  and  after  it  she  had  become  another. 
She  felt  as  if  she  were  detached  from  that  old  self, 
as  if  she  stood  off  and  looked  at  herself  and  at  Roger, 
at  their  life  together  in  something  the  way  that  God 
Himself  must  look  at  our  lives.  She  looked  back  at 
their  youthful  love  for  each  other,  the  love  that  had 
been  so  gay,  and  so  little  tender.  It  had  been  a  com- 

186 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


pound  of  passion  and  carelessness,  and  on  her  part 
a  bit  of  arrogance,  the  arrogance  of  the  girl  who  is 
sure  of  the  devotion  of  her  mate.  The  city  was  new 
to  her,  life  was  as  bright  and  new  to  them  both  as 
their  wedding  silver.  She  could  see  every  detail  of 
that  first  little  apartment  they  had  taken,  before 
Roger  had  had  his  big  increase  of  salary,  before 
Emma  had  introduced  her  to  Ada  Kent  and  Ada 
had  presented  her  to  her  friends  —  although  she 
had  not  thought  about  it  for  four  years.  It  was 
in  that  apartment  that  they  had  been  the  happiest; 
it  was  as  if  when  they  left  it,  the  city  had  got  them, 
it  had  pressed  in  on  them,  offering  them  everything 
but  peace.  They  had  had  their  first  sharp  difference 
of  opinion  over  the  furnishing  of  that  apartment,  but 
her  ideas  had  won  out,  or  rather  her  imitation  of 
Ada  Kent's  ideas.  .  .  .  With  a  sigh  of  pain  she 
turned  on  her  side  and  her  outflung  hand  touched 
Emma's  and  clung  to  it. 

"  You  mustn't  let  yourself  imagine  things,  dear," 
Emma  said.  "  Can't  you  get  to  sleep  if  you  close 
your  eyes  and  try  ?  " 

187 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


"  I  keep  seeing  things  when  I  close  my  eyes,"  Anne 
replied. 

"  Don't  you  think  I'd  better  send  for  Dr.  Bronson 
and  have  him  give  you  something?  " 

"  No,  no,  I  don't  want  to  be  doped  into  not  think- 
ing,'* Anne  cried.  "  There  is  something  I  am  trying 
to  figure  out.  .  .  ."  She  lay  silent  for  a  time,  then 
she  turned  her  face  on  her  pillow  and  looked  at  Emma. 
"  Emma,  women  like  you  and  me  and  Ada  Kent  —  I 
don't  believe  we  ever  really  appreciate  our  husbands 
until  we  lose  them." 

"  Why  do  you  say  that,  Anne?  " 

"  I  mean  that  we  take  and  take  —  and  give  back 
just  as  little  as  we  can." 

Emma  stared,  bewildered,  but  Anne  did  not  appear 
to  be  aware  of  her.  She  went  on  talking,  but  it  was 
not  to  Emma  she  talked  so  much  as  to  some  invisible 
woman  who  stood  beyond  Emma,  whom  she  looked 
at  and  sized  up  slowly,  gropingly,  but  remorselessly. 
There  were  long  pauses  between  her  sentences,  pauses 
when  she  stared  up  at  the  ceiling  where  the  light  from 

188 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


the  street  lay  in  a  golden  oblong,  and  then  looked 
back  again  as  if  at  her  invisible  self. 

"  We  talk  about  the  idle  rich,  but  it  is  the  women 
like  ourselves  who  have  been  the  idlers  —  we  who  are 
neither  poor  nor  rich.  We  waste  ourselves,  our  time 
—  we  waste  our  men.  The  rich  women  —  many  of 
them  work  as  hard  as  a  man.  There's  one  I  met. 
She  owns  a  block  of  houses  and  she's  having  them 
made  over  into  model  tenements.  She's  on  the  Food 
Committee,  in  the  Home  Service,  and  I  don't  know 
how  many  charitable  organizations.  She's  doing 
something  to  pay  for  being  in  the  world.  And  the 
poor  women  —  they  pay,  dreadfully,  with  children 
and  work.  And  the  women  on  farms  —  they  pay, 
too.  It  is  we  —  you  and  I  and  Ada  —  who  get  some- 
thing for  nothing.  .  .  ." 

"  It  sounds  to  me  like  nonsense !  You  know,  per- 
fectly well,  how  busy  I  am  all  the  time  —  Ada, 
too!" 

Anne  went  on  as  if  she  had  not  heard  her.  "  We 
get  out  of  everything  we  can  —  work  with  our  hands 
or  our  brains  —  children  —  responsibility.  We  sag 

189 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


down  on  to  the  shoulders  of  Roger  and  Sara  and 
Henry " 

Emma's  patience,  born  of  her  sympathy,  gave 
way.  "  You  know  perfectly  well,  Anne,  that  Roger 
and  Sam  like  business.  All  men  do!  It's  their 
game.  They'd  rather  play  it  than  any  other." 

Anne  sat  up,  to  look  at  her  sister  with  eyes  that 
appeared  to  have  sunk  a  little  in  their  sockets.  "  I 
know  —  but  we  make  them  play  it  too  hard !  We 
tie  them  to  it,  with  our  silly  standards  of  living,  un- 
til they  don't  have  time  for  anything  else  but  busi- 
ness in  order  to  pay  our  bills.  And  so  we  become 
strangers  to  each  other.  ...  It  all  seems  so  futile 
—  now  — And  we  got  nothing  from  it  but  show  — 
no  security,  no  inner  peace,  no  real  happiness.  .  .  ." 

Suddenly  she  sank  back  and  buried  her  face  in  her 
hands.  She  felt  as  if  she  were  drowning  in  a  poign- 
ant and  unappeasable  sense  of  failure.  It  was  un- 
bearable, the  thought  that  she  might  never  walk  be- 
side Roger  with  her  new  understanding  and  sym- 
pathy, carrying  her  share  of  the  burdens  of  their 
life. 

190 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


Emma  looked  at  her  sister,  puzzled,  vaguely  af- 
fronted. "  She's  overwrought,"  she  said  to  herself, 
to  soothe  a  new  uneasiness  in  her  own  soul.  Then  she 
too  lay  down,  and  presently  she  was  asleep.  But 
Anne  lay  staring  at  the  pale  golden  oblong  on  the 
ceiling,  while  her  thoughts  went  round  and  round  the 
circle  of  cause  and  effect,  sometimes  slipping  deep 
into  the  depths  of  pain  and  fear  as  she  looked  into 
the  future,  sometimes  losing  themselves  in  memories 
that  had  become  all  at  once  painfully  sweet. 


CHAPTER  XI 

IT  had  been  in  Roger's  own  office  that  she  received 
the  news  that  he  was  wounded,  and  as  it  hap- 
pened it  was  in  the  same  place  and  at  the  end  of 
a  working  day  that  word  was  brought  to  her  that  he 
had  been  located  and  that  his  wounds  were  not  con- 
sidered serious.  She  had  stayed  at  home  with  Emma 
for  two  days,  waiting  for  news,  and  they  had  been,  in 
their  slow  inaction,  two  of  the  most  terrible  days 
she  had  ever  known.  And  then  she  had  risen  on  the 
morning  of  the  third  day  and  told  Emma  that  she 
was  going  back  to  work.  Work  had  seemed  to  her 
the  only  thing  that  could  keep  her  sane  and  give  her 
a  measure  of  relief.  If  Roger  never  came  back,  then 
she  would  have  to  go  on  anyway.  A  man  in  sus- 
pense and  bereavement  would  have  gone  on  work- 
ing —  why  should  not  she  ? 

It  gave  her  a  sense  of  warmth  to  see  the  kindness 
192 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


and  sympathy  in  the  eyes  of  Ricky  and  the  men  in 
the  office  when  she  came  back.  She  knew  they  were 
grateful  to  her  because  she  could  go  about  her  work 
steadily,  for  no  matter  what  happened  to  the  in- 
dividual, the  work  of  the  world  had  to  go  on,  and 
they,  the  workers,  had  long  since  learned  this,  al- 
though it  was  plain  that  they  had  not  expected  her 
to  learn  it  so  soon.  And  then,  toward  the  end  of 
the  second  day  after  she  had  gone  back  to  work,  Mr. 
Leavitt  came  in,  triumphantly,  an  unusual  and  boyish 
smile  on  his  face,  waving  a  yellow  slip  of  paper. 

"  They've  sent  word  from  Washington  that  Roger 
is  getting  on  all  right.  They've  located  him  in  Base 
Hospital  Number .  He's  got  some  shell  splin- 
ters in  him  and  is  suffering  from  shock,  but  he  is  out 
of  danger ! " 

Anne  never  could  remember  afterward  quite  what 
she  did  in  the  tremendous  relief  of  that  moment.  She 
knew  that  she  and  Ricky  hugged  each  other  frantic- 
ally, and  she  was  never  sure  that  she  hadn't  hugged 
Charley  Drierson.  There  were  ten  minutes  when 
every  one  in  the  offices  stopped  work  and  crowded 

193 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


about  her,  shaking  her  hand  in  embarrassed,  shiny- 
eyed  congratulation.  She  felt  as  if  her  heart  were 
dissolving  within  her  from  the  warmth,  the  pure  joy 
of  that  moment. 

"  Nothing  can  ever  be  the  same  again,"  she  kept 
thinking.  "  How  good  they  are,  how  human  and 
sweet  to  me !  " 

Within  a  day  or  two  there  came  a  cable  from  Roger 
himself  in  answer  to  the  innumerable  ones  she  had 
sent.  "  Out  of  danger.  Love,"  was  all  it  said,  but 
she  treasured  it  as  she  had  not  done  any  of  his  let- 
ters. She  slept  that  night  deeply,  the  sleep  of  ex- 
haustion, for  Roger  was  safe  —  for  a  time,  at  least ! 
Two  weeks  later  there  came  a  short  letter  from  him, 
evidently  dictated  to  a  nurse.  He  had  had  a  pestif- 
erous lot  of  metal  picked  out  of  him,  but  there  was 
still  an  industrious  bit  dug  in  for  the  winter  in  his 
hip,  he  wrote.  They  would  operate  in  a  day  or 
two  when  he  had  rested  up  a  bit,  and  then  he  would 
be  able  to  enjoy  the  clean  bed  and  the  other  comforts 
with  which  he  was  surrounded.  In  the  mean- 
time, he  felt  a  bit  disgruntled,  for  that  shell  with  his 

194 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


name  and  address  on  it  had  come  along  just  in  time 
to  interrupt  a  regular  day's  work.  He  and  a  de- 
tachment from  his  company  had  been  repairing  a 
bridge  on  the  main  road  to  their  village.  The  vil- 
lage had  unexpectedly  come  under  fire  and  the  civil- 
ians had  to  be  got  over  that  bridge.  They  were  all 
being  sprinkled  by  the  enemy  battery,  bridge-builders 
and  civilians  alike. 

"  One  end  of  that  bridge,"  he  wrote,  "  looked  like 
the  entrance  to  the  Ark,  after  Noah  had  sent  out  his 
invitations.  There  were  humans  and  rabbits,  cows, 
two  horses  so  old  they  had  beards,  crates  of  chickens* 
dogs,  the  family  cat  and  a  goat,  all  mixed  up  with 
bundles  of  bedding  as  big  as  haystacks,  and  all  wait- 
ing to  get  across.  I  saw  all  this  and  thought  how 
funny  it  was  even  as  I  jumped  here  and  there.  And 
then,  just  as  the  last  plank  was  down  and  I  ran  back 
to  start  the  menagerie  across  —  whine  —  whizz  — 
plink !  and  the  next  thing  I  knew  a  red-haired  doctor 
was  saying:  "Breath  deep  —  darn  you,  breath 
deeper !  "  And  here  I  am,  out  of  it.  Rotten  luck ! 
No,  I  ought  not  to  say  that.  For  Snubby  —  tell  the 

195 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


fellows  at  the  office  —  poor  little  old  Snubby  has  got 
his,  I  hear.  Blind  —  but  decorated  by  his  French 
commander  for  gallantry.  I  haven't  heard  the  de- 
tails. Well,  his  is  the  glory  —  no  use  pitying  him. 

.  .  .  Love,   so  much,   my   dear.     And   write   often. 

»> 

That  was  all  he  had  to  say  about  the  occasion  that 
brought  him  his  wound  stripes  and  a  first  lieutenancy. 
Anne  saw  the  announcement  of  his  promotion  in  the 
paper,  and  her  heart  swelled  with  pride.  She  swag- 
gered shamelessly  before  Henry  and  Emma  that  Sun- 
day at  dinner.  And  a  letter  from  Roger  received 
on  the  same  day  said  he  was  sitting  up  and  eating 
everything  in  sight. 

It  was  therefore  out  of  a  blue  sky  that  she  received 
a  cablegram  saying  he  was  coming  home,  sailing  date 
unknown.  In  the  midst  of  her  excitement  and  pleas- 
ure over  this  news  she  felt  the  chill  of  a  premonition ; 
could  it  be  that  Roger  was  not  getting  along  so  well 
as  he  had  given  her  to  understand? 

Fortunately  she  had  little  time  to  worry,  for  as 
soon  as  she  received  this  last  cable  she  decided  that 

196 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


she  must  have  a  home  for  Roger  to  come  to,  the 
boarding-house  being  out  of  the  question.  The 
chances  were  that  he  was  ill,  that  he  was  going  to 
need  long  nursing.  She  felt  every  nerve  and  faculty 
leap  to  meet  this  emergency. 

If  all  this  had  happened  before  her  various  wage- 
earning  experiences,  her  impulse  at  this  juncture 
would  have  been  to  consult  with  Emma  and  Ada 
Kent,  a  move  that  would  have  resulted  in  her  leasing 
an  apartment  very  much  like  the  one  she  had  given 
up  when  Roger  went  away.  But  for  the  best  part 
of  a  year  she  had  done  without  Emma  or  Ada  Kent; 
she  had  also  done  without  several  luxuries  she  had 
always  considered  essentials,  and  she  had  learned  the 
value  of  a  dollar  hardly  earned.  She  did  not  know 
whether  Roger  would  be  continued  at  his  present 
pay,  whether  he  was  to  be  discharged  from  the  army, 
or  what  his  needs  would  be.  She  decided  therefore 
to  figure  their  expenses  on  the  basis  of  her  present 
salary  and  commissions,  plus  the  allotment  she  had 
been  receiving.  If  there  was  to  be  no  allotment,  at 

197 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


least   there  would  be   insurance.     She   felt   safe   in 
taking  an  apartment. 

But  it  was  not  in  the  neighborhood  nor  on  the 
scale  of  their  former  home.  After  a  week  spent  in 
a  determined  hunt  during  every  hour  she  could  squeeze 
from  the  office,  she  leased  the  ground  floor  in  an  old 
house  of  charmingly  proportioned  rooms.  If  Roger 
was  lame,  he  could  not  climb  stairs ;  and  an  elevator 
apartment  that  was  large  enough  would  be  too  ex- 
pensive. The  neighborhood  was  just  slightly  out  at 
elbows;  it  was  the  sort  of  neighborhood  to  make 
Ada  Kent  exclaim :  "  My  dear,  she  is  living  in  the 
most  impossible  neighborhood !  "  But  it  was  quiet, 
it  was  within  a  block  of  the  subway,  and  the  rooms 
were  all  light.  Also  the  rent  was  little  more  than 
half  what  they  had  paid  farther  uptown  in  their  huge 
cliff  dwelling  on  Riverside  Drive. 

For  two  weeks  she  indulged  in  the  favorite  feminine 
sport  of  choosing  wall  paper,  overseeing  the  scrub- 
bing, polishing  and  decking  of  her  new  home,  getting 
her  household  things  out  of  storage,  lingering  with 
a  happy,  critical  eye  over  each  article,  arranging  and 

198 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


rearranging   them,    unpacking    trunks    and    chests. 

She  had  to  do  all  of  these  things  out  of  office  hours. 
She  went  to  bed  late  and  was  up  betimes,  but  she  felt 
as  sustained  as  if  she  had  drunk  some  elixir  whose 
property  was  to  give  one  lightness  and  strength. 
For  Roger  was  coming  home!  He  was  perhaps  at 
that  moment  on  the  way.  She  wanted  to  have  every- 
thing ready,  down  to  the  last  clean  towel  in  the  little 
bathroom,  the  bowl  of  yellow  flowers  on  the  mantel  in 
the  living  room.  One  evening  Ricky  came  home  with 
her,  at  her  invitation.  The  furniture  had  been  sent 
home  from  storage  and  in  the  large  front  room  most 
of  it  was  in  place.  The  deep  down-cushioned  sofa 
flanked  the  old-fashioned  fireplace  on  one  side,  and 
Roger's  favorite  chair  with  the  reading  lamp  stood 
at  the  other.  The  lady^by-the-day  who  had  been 
cleaning  for  Anne  had  just  laid  down  one  of  Anne's 
wedding  presents,  a  deep-blue  Chinese  rug.  Ricky 
drew  a  deep  breath. 

"  My,  how  stunning  this  room  is !  "  she  exclaimed. 
"  You've  got  such  a  lot  of  pretty  things !  " 

Anne  looked  around  at  her  in  some  surprise  —  she 
199 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


had  just  been  thinking  that  the  dining  room  was  far 
too  small  for  their  dining-room  things.  But  at  sight 
of  Ricky's  admiring  face  she  thought :  "  It's  all  in 
the  point  of  view !  "  And  she  sat  down  with  a  con- 
tented sigh,  aware  all  at  once  that  the  old  room,  with 
its  high  ceiling  and  generous  proportions,  was  beauti- 
fully homelike. 

"  Look  here,  Ricky,  you  must  come  and  see  me 
often  when  I  get  settled,  will  you?"  she  cried. 
"  Would  you  put  this  little  orange  and  blue  rug 
here  —  or  here  in  front  of  this  chair?  " 

She  was  wondering  how  she  could  ever  have  felt  dis- 
contented with  her  possessions  ;  they  all  seemed  to  her 
now  infinitely  satisfying,  like  gracious  friends  from 
whom  she  had  been  away  for  a  long,  bleak  time. 
Her  heart  sang  a  little  grateful  song. 

She  need  not  have  made  such  haste  with  her  prep- 
arations, for  it  was  fully  a  month  later,  in  March, 
before  Roger  came  home,  in  a  transport  full  of  sick 
and  wounded.  And  even  then  she  could  not  have 
him  at  home,  for  there  was  to  be  a  short  detention 
period  in  one  of  the  government  hospitals  before 

200 


even  his  wife  could  take  possession  of  him.  But  she 
was  allowed  to  see  him  soon  after  he  landed,  at  the 
hospital  to  which  he  had  been  assigned. 

Trembling  with  a  queer  kind  of  dread  she  was 
ushered  into  his  room.  He  lifted  his  head  from  the 
pillow.  It  seemed  to  her  there  was  nothing  left  of 
him  but  his  smile,  the  same,  quick,  boyish  smile  that 
always  came  to  his  lips  when  he  was  pleased.  His 
eyes,  which  had  changed  so  oddly,  devoured  her. 
But  after  one  glance  at  him  she  could  not  bear  to 
look  again  for  several  minutes:  he  must  have  been 
through  not  only  physical  pain,  but  pain  of  the  soul 
and  mind  to  look  like  that. 

She  was  allowed  to  stay  only  a  brief  quarter  of  an 
hour.  The  voyage  had  tried  him  severely;  he 
dropped  asleep  even  as  they  were  talking.  The  doc- 
tor told  her  later  that  the  operation  on  the  hip  had 
been  more  complicated  than  they  had  expected,  and 
foreseeing  a  long  convalescence  they  had  thought  it 
best  to  send  him  home.  He  was  also  still  suffering 
somewhat  from  shock.  But  altogether,  his  condi- 
tion was  what  the  doctor  called  "  favorable." 

201 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


"  Will  he  —  will  he  be  able  to  go  back  ?  "  she  asked, 
feeling  her  heart  rising  to  choke  her  as  she  put  the 
question. 

The  doctor  shook  his  head.  "  Can't  say.  Prob- 
ably not  for  months,  anyway.  But  if  I  were  you  I 
wouldn't  tell  him  that  just  yet.  He  wants  to  go 
back  —  most  of  them  do,  you  know." 

During  the  next  few  weeks  she  visited  the  hospital 
as  often  as  possible.  At  first  there  was  often  an  ex- 
pression in  Roger's  eyes  that  puzzled  her  a  good  deal 
until  she  understood  it  better.  She  saw  it  in  the  eyes 
of  more  than  one  man  —  a  queer,  childlike  bewilder- 
ment that  had  an  edge  of  terror.  She  would  see  it  in 
Roger's  eyes  when  he  awakened  from  one  of  his  light 
sleeps,  and  it  wrung  her  heart  until  she  accepted  it  as 
a  usual  symptom. 

"  Nine-tenths  of  the  shock  cases  have  it,"  the  doc- 
tor told  her.  "  It  will  wear  off.  Keep  him  cheer- 
ful. Get  him  to  look  forward  if  you  can." 

During  these  first  two  weeks  he  seemed  rather 
apathetic,  now  and  then  petulant  and  inclined  to  feel 
himself  aggrieved  if  she  was  five  minutes  late.  But 

202 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


for  the  most  part  he  appeared  content  to  lie  or  sit 
quietly,  looking  at  her  as  she  read  to  him.  Then 
slowly  he  began  to  find  himself  as  the  days  passed. 
She  could  almost  see  the  stages  by  which  he  came  back 
into  touch  with  his  old  life  again.  He  was  like  a  per- 
son who  has  been  in  another  world  where  the  events 
that  had  happened  were  so  absorbing,  so  strange,  that 
they  dwarfed  anything  that  might  occur  in  this  one. 
It  was  only  by  making  a  visible  effort  that  he  could 
concentrate  on  details  of  his  old  life  that  had  once 
seemed  of  the  utmost  importance.  Anne  had  a  feel- 
ing that  he  was  forcing  himself  to  take  up  one  by 
one  the  threads  of  their  lives.  About  this  time 
Charley  Drierson  paid  him  a  visit  to  give  him  the 
gossip  of  the  office.  The  next  time  Anne  saw  her 
faithful  friend  he  smiled  at  her  as  if  something  amused 
him. 

"  Roger  don't  just  take  to  the  idea  of  your  working 
with  us,  does  he?  "  he  said  to  her. 

"  Did  Roger  say  so  ?  "  she  asked  quickly.  She  had 
been  putting  off  the  day  of  practical  discussions. 

*'  Not  in  so  many  words,  but  he  sort  of  apologized 
203 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


for  you  —  said  it  was  fine  of  the  boss  to  give  you 
something  temporarily  to  keep  your  mind  off  worry- 
ing, and  so  forth.  But,  of  course,  you  never  having 
had  any  experience,  weren't  much  use  to  us ! " 

"  And  what  did  you  tell  him?  " 

Dricrson  chuckled.  "  I  asked  him  if  he  thought 
the  boss  was  running  a  charitable  institution.  I  told 
him  you'd  had  one  raise  of  salary,  and  you'd  struck 
out  a  nice  little  line  for  yourself.  Then  I  come  away 
to  let  that  sink  in." 

Anne  sighed  unconsciously.  Readjustment  was 
going  to  come  hard  to  Roger  and  to  many  like  him. 
They  had  come  back  to  find  a  new  order,  but  most 
difficult  of  all  was  the  change  within  themselves. 
They  had  looked  on  the  faces  of  splendor  and  of  hor- 
ror —  they  were  going  to  find  it  not  easy  to  come 
back  to  the  drafting-boards,  the  ledgers,  the  shops 
—  and  the  competition  of  women. 

One  day  when  Roger  was  able  to  take  a  short  turn 
on  the  hospital  verandas  he  said  suddenly :  "  Anne, 
I  don't  see  how  we're  going  to  make  it  go  on  my  pay. 
I  did  a  little  figuring  yesterday  and  as  far  as  I  can 

204 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


see  what  I  draw  from  the  Government  falls  consid- 
erably short  of  what  it  used  to  cost  us  to  live.  And 
everything  is  higher,  now,  anyway.  Of  course,  if  I 
can't  go  back  to  active  service,  Leavitt  wants  me  back 
at  the  old  salary.  But  the  doctor  says  I  can't  go 
back  to  full  time  for  maybe  four  months  yet.  And 
in  the  meantime,  I'm  neither  a  soldier  nor  a  civilian. 
The  way  I  figure  it  out,  if  you  would  go  to  live  with 
Emma  for  the  summer  in  the  country  and  let  me  start 
out  in  bachelor  diggings  again,  we  can  save  a  little 
money  and  get  on  our  feet  by  autmun.  I  know  you 
won't  want  to  live  with  Emma,  but  after  all,  Henry 
was  awfully  decent  when  he  was  up  here  the  other 
day " 

"  Wait  a  minute,  dear,"  said  Anne  quickly.  She 
was  glad  that  at  last  Roger  himself  was  ready  to  talk 
about  their  future.  "  In  your  calculations  you  didn't 
figure  on  my  salary  —  and  commissions  —  did  you?  " 

"  Of  course  not ! "  His  tone  was  rather  stiff. 
"  You  needn't  think  I  want  you  to  go  on  working 
when  I  am  able  to.  And  summer  coming  on,  too !  " 

Anne  laid  that  phase  of  the  subject  away  for  fu- 
205 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


ture  discussion.  "  And  there  was  another  mistake 
you  made,"  she  said  serenely.  "  You  figured  on  our 
old  basis  of  living,  didn't  you?  I've  learned  a  thing 
or  two  since  you  went  away,  and  I  know  we  can  live 
comfortably  on  much  less  than  we  used  to  live  on. 
Take  our  new  apartment  —  it  costs  about  half  what 
we  used  to  pay.  And  I've  found  a  maid  who  will 
come  to  me  by  the  day  for  about  two-thirds  of  what 
I  paid  Susie.  Of  course,  she  isn't  an  expert  —  I'll 
have  to  teach  her  —  but  why  shouldn't  I  teach  her  ? 
And  as  for  clothes  —  you  have  your  uniforms  and 
I  don't  need  much  in  the  office  — "  she  remembered 
here  that  they  hadn't  settled  about  the  office,  yet,  and 
she  hastily  changed  to  — "anyway,  summer  clothes 
don't  cost  much.  And  there's  another  thing  you 
didn't  count  on :  there's  half  your  allotment  money  in 
the  bank." 

"  In  the  bank !  But  —  but  what  have  you  been 
living  on  ?  " 

"  Why,  you  dear  old  silly  —  on  my  salary,  of 
course !  " 

She  gave  her  head  a  gay,  proud  little  cock  and 
206 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


looked  at  him,  aware  that  this  instant  was  important, 
that  it  marked  the  beginning  of  a  new  element  in  their 
relationship.  She  saw  the  surprise  and  incredulity 
in  his  eyes  change  to  a  puzzled  keenness  of  contempla- 
tion. She  felt  that  just  to  see  that  expression  in  his 
eyes  was  worth  everything  she  had  gone  through. 

"  Look  here,"  he  cried,  "  you'd  better  tell  me  how 
you  managed  it.  You've  mentioned  commissions  be- 
fore, too  —  you'd  better  come  across  with  the  whole 
story  before  I  send  for  Charley  Drierson  and  make 
him  explain.  And  I  guess  I'm  strong  enough  now 
to  hear  about  your  business  venture  with  that  Deal 
girl.  You've  never  been  very  clear  about  that,  you 
know." 

"  Very  well,"  said  Anne,  "  I'll  tell  you  the  story 
of  my  life!" 

She  was  laughing,  but  her  mind  was  working  rap- 
idly. How  much  of  that  stupid  early  venture  of  hers 
should  she  relate?  How  much  would  a  man  tell  his 
wife  in  the  same  circumstances? 

"  Just  as  much  as  he  thinks  is  good  for  her,"  she 
reflected ;  and  determined  to  follow  this  rule. 

207 


CHAPTER  XII 

THERE  was  no  denying  that  Roger  was  a 
rather  captious  convalescent.  Like  most 
masculine  invalids  he  could  think  of  more 
things  he  would  like  to  have  done  for  him  than  two 
trained  nurses  could  have  kept  up  with.  Fortunately, 
Leavitt  offered  Anne  a  two  weeks'  vacation  in  which 
to  get  Roger  settled  at  home.  This  time  always 
stood  out  in  her  memory  as  a  queer  mixture  of  tender 
happiness  and  a  kind  of  growing  dismay.  It  was 
for  both  of  them  a  sort  of  second  honeymoon,  in 
which  there  was  delight  in  being  together  and  at  the 
same  time  a  kind  of  estrangement,  as  if  each  had  a 
secret,  absorbing,  and  not  yet  to  be  shared  with  the 
other.  But  Roger's  home-coming  was  a  day  of  pure 
happiness.  He  was  so  glad  to  get  home,  so  touchingly 
delighted  to  see  and  feel  the  familiar  household  gods 
around  him  (Anne  was  relieved  to  see  that  he  had 

208 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


not  yet  missed  the  Sheraton  sideboard)  that  they  were 
both  like  childdren.  It  happened  to  be  an  unsea- 
sonably cold  evening  and  Anne  had  laid  a  fire  in  the 
old-fashioned  fireplace.  Roger  lay  back  in  his  com- 
fortable chair  with  cigarettes  at  his  elbow  and  his 
familiar  worn  slippers  on  his  feet,  and  watched  Anne 
as  she  moved  in  and  out  of  the  room,  giving  Julia  a 
few  last  instructions  about  their  dinner.  Suddenly 
as  she  passed  his  chair  he  put  up  a  hand  and  drew 
her  face  down  to  his. 

"  You  look  so  sweet,  Anne,"  he  murmured. 

She  pressed  his  head  against  her  breast.  "  Do 
you  like  these  rooms,  Roger?  Don't  you  think  we 
shall  be  just  as  happy  here  as  if  it  were  a  larger 
apartment  up  where  we  used  to  live  ?  " 

"  Dead  sure  of  it,  dear.  Only,  I  want  you  to  have 
things  the  way  you  like  them " 

"  Don't  worry  about  me !  I'm  going  to  be  so 
busy  there  won't  be  any  time  to  miss  our  marble  halls. 
And  I'm  not  sure  these  old  houses  aren't  more  homey 
than  all  the  brand-new  apartment  houses  put  to- 
gether." 

209 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


"  You're  right  there !  I  always  did  hate  a  string 
of  lazy  hall-boys !  What  does  Emma  think  of  this 
place?" 

Anne  laughed.  "  Emma  says  it's  all  right  for 
artists  and  Bohemians  who  live  in  a  haphazard  way, 
but  not  for  us  because  we  have  a  standard  to  keep 
up!" 

Roger  growled  under  his  breath  in  a  way  that 
pleased  her  because  it  sounded  like  the  old  Roger. 
But  he  was  too  happy  that  evening  to  waste  his 
breath  on  Emma  and  her  standards.  He  wanted 
only  to  sit  there  and  drink  in  the  fact  that  he  was 
at  home  again. 

But  after  the  first  few  days  at  home  there  was 
no  ignoring  the  fact  that  Roger  was  not  quite  happy. 
Anne,  watching  him,  knew  this  and  believed  she  un- 
destood  the  cause.  They  had  told  him  at  the  hos- 
pital the  day  before  he  left  that  in  all  probability  he 
would  be  a  little  lame  for  some  time,  enough  to  pre- 
clude the  possibility  of  active  service.  He  felt  as 
if  he  was  stranded  high  and  dry  above  the  rushing 
currents  of  life.  He  had  had  a  taste  of  an  experi- 

210 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


ence  that  drew  him  like  a  powerful  magnet,  an  experi- 
ence that  had  aroused  in  him  deeper  thoughts  and 
emotions  than  any  he  had  ever  known.  He  wanted 
to  go  on,  to  accomplish  something,  to  win  promo- 
tion, to  feel  that  he  had  finished  what  he  set  out  to  do 
when  he  enlisted.  There  was  in  him  no  uncertainty 
now  as  to  his  motives  in  enlisting:  he  wanted  fiercely 
to  win  out  over  an  enemy  he  had  come  to  hate  through 
what  he  had  seen  and  heard.  And  then,  just  at  the 
climax,  to  be  plucked  out  of  it  all  by  the  neck,  as 
he  said;  to  be  put  out  of  the  most  tremendous  thing 
in  the  world  because  of  a  few  steel  splinters !  An 
exasperating  feature  of  the  whole  circumstance  was 
that  he  was  neither  soldier  nor  civilian  in  point  of 
practice,  for  he  had,  of  course,  not  received  his  dis- 
charge, although  he  had  been  given  permission  to 
take  up  his  former  position  again  until  he  was  re- 
assigned. He  felt  as  if  he  had  been  jolted  out  of 
one  rut  and  had  not  yet  settled  into  another.  He 
was  also  not  yet  quite  up  to  par  physically,  and  he 
was  therefore  less  able  to  cope  with  his  depression. 
Anne,  studying  him,  realized  that  for  Roger,  per- 
211 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


haps  for  them  both,  a  period  of  reconstruction  had 
begun.  She  thought  about  it  a  good  deal,  but  talked 
of  her  thoughts  very  little,  for  she  was  feeling  her 
way.  She  wanted  these  two  weeks  to  be  happy  ones ; 
they  were  the  first  free  weeks  she  had  had  in  a  year, 
and  she  was  feeling,  herself,  the  reaction  from  the 
long  strain.  So  she  and  Roger  sat  out  in  the  spring 
sunshine  in  the  parks,  walking  a  little,  reading  aloud 
sometimes,  but  very  often  sitting  in  long  silences, 
silences  that  were  not  quite  companionable,  because 
neither  was  quite  certain  what  the  other  was  thinking. 
Then  one  evening,  toward  the  end  of  her  two  weeks' 
leave  of  absence,  Anne  said,  trying  to  speak  casually 
and  carelessly : 

"  Only  two  days  more.  Oh,  I  have  enjoyed  this 
vacation ! " 

They  had  come  out  into  the  rather  sooty  little 
garden,  on  to  which  the  door  of  the  dining  room 
opened,  and  Roger  was  smoking  in  a  long  deck  chair. 
He  looked  around  at  her,  puzzled. 

"  Two  days  more  —  what  do  you  mean?  " 
212 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


"  Two  days  more  of  my  vacation.  I  promised 
to  be  back  on  Monday." 

When  she  had  said  this  she  clasped  her  hands  be- 
hind her  head  and  looked  up  at  the  evening  sky. 
She  was  aware  in  that  instant,  while  she  waited  for 
Roger  to  reply,  that  she  was  ready  to  defend  her 
intention  to  the  limit.  She  wanted  to  go  back  to 
work  —  she  had  missed  the  excitement  of  the  game ! 

Roger  did  not  at  once  reply.  He  very  carefully 
knocked  the  ashes  from  his  cigarette,  and  sat  there 
holding  it  in  his  hand  contemplating  it.  Finally  he 
said  quietly :  "  I  thought  we  had  settled  that  you 
were  not  to  go  back  to  the  office." 

She  smiled  and  wanted  to  retort  that  Roger  was 
the  one  who  had  settled  it,  but  she  knew  that  this 
should  be  the  most  tactful  moment  of  all  their  critical 
moments.  So  she  imitated  his  quiet  tone.  "  Don't 
you  want  me  to  go  back,  Roger  ?  " 

"Can't  say  I  do!" 

"Why?" 

"  Well  — "  a  long  pause  while  he  brooded  over  the 
213 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


cigarette.  "  Isn't  it  a  pretty  bad  reflection  on  me, 
Anne,  if  you  have  to  work  for  wages  ?  " 

She  looked  around  at  him,  smiling  so  as  to  take  the 
edge  off  her  next  remark :  "  Then  it's  a  matter  of 
personal  vanity,  isn't  it,  Roger  ?  " 

"  Why,  no,  not  altogether !  Hang  it  all,  Anne, 
an  able-bodied  man  doesn't  like  to  see  his  wife  go 
out  every  day  to  work  for  another  man!  Other 
chaps  see  her  doing  it  and  they  jump  to  the  conclu- 
sion a  man's  a  failure.  It  makes  a  man  feel  small !  " 

A  year  earlier  Anne  would  have  accepted  this  with 
some  complacence  as  somehow  a  tribute  to  her  femin- 
inity. But  she  had  learned  to  think  a  little  clearer ; 
also  there  were  certain  things  she  remembered.  She 
leaned  forward,  clasping  her  hands  above  her  knees, 
frowning  a  little,  trying  to  marshal  her  arguments. 

"  Roger,  that  argument  of  yours  against  a  mar- 
ried woman's  working  outside  her  home  may  have 
passed  muster  a  year  ago,  but  it  doesn't  sound  so 
reasonable  now.  You  have  to  remember  that,  while 
you've  been  over  there  in  France,  things  have  been 
moving  fast  here,  too.  Thousands  of  wives  have  dis- 

214 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


covered  they  can  make  money,  earn  wages,  and  it 
has  changed  their  viewpoint  a  lot.  Well,  don't  you 
see,  the  husbands'  viewpoint  will  have  to  change, 
too?  They  will  have  to  get  rid  of  the  idea  that  it's 
a  disgrace  to  them  not  to  keep  their  wives  at  home, 
idle  half  the  time.  Of  course,  if  there  are  children, 
then  it's  different.  They've  got  their  job  all  cut  out 
for  them,  then.  But  when  there  aren't  any  children, 
or  the  children  are  in  school  or  grown  up  —  why 
shouldn't  a  woman  have  a  money-earning  job?  —  if 
she  likes  it !  " 

"  Do  you  like  it,  Anne?  "  He  asked  the  question 
with  a  simple  astonishment. 

"  I  think,"  she  said  slowly,  "  I  think  I  must,  for 
I  want  to  go  back.  I  feel  as  if  I  had  begun  some- 
thing that  I  want  to  complete.  I  should  like  to  make 
good.  They've  given  me  a  chance,  and  I  can  see 
that  I've  only  just  begun  to  take  advantage  of  it. 
There's  a  kind  of  alive  feeling  I  have,  now,  that  I 
don't  remember  ever  having  before."  She  spoke 
slowly,  choosing  her  words,  feeling  her  way  through 
the  new  thoughts  that  were  stirring  in  her  mind. 

215 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


"  When  I  was  working,  especially  at  first,  I  often 
disliked  it;  I  felt  as  if  I  would  like  to  stay  at  home 
and  fuss  around,  doing  all  the  little  things  that  a 
woman  does  when  she  has  the  whole  morning  before 
her.  I  missed  having  tea,  and  shopping,  and  playing 
bridge,  of  course.  And  I  thought  that  when  you 
came  back  and  we  were  settled  in  our  own  home  again, 
I  would  take  up  things  where  I  left  off.  But  these 
last  two  weeks  there  have  been  things  I've  missed 
more.  Don't  think  it  hasn't  been  wonderful  and 
sweet  to  have  you  back  again,  dear  — "  she  put  her 
hand  over  his  — "  for  it  has  been  in  some  ways  the 
very  happiest  two  weeks  of  my  life.  But  we've  got 
to  be  honest,  haven't  we?  And  I  would  be  lying  if  I 
said  I  haven't  missed  something  I  get,  every  day,  out 
of  my  work.  It's  a  kind  of  burnishing  up  of  my  brain 
to  come  into  contact  with  men  like  Mr.  Leavitt,  and 
Charley  Drierson.  But  it's  something  more  than 
that,  too  —  it's  hard  to  put  into  words  —  but  it's 
something  I  get  in  my  pay  envelope  along  with  the 
money,  something  the  money  is  just  a  symbol  of  - 
I  don't  know  whether  it's  independence,  or  a  sense 

216 


of  being  a  valuable  part  of  the  machinery  of  the 
world,  or  what  —  but  it  is  there  —  and  I  miss  it." 

Roger  did  not  answer.  He  lay  back,  motionless 
in  his  chair,  staring  at  nothing.  She  got  from  him 
a  sense  that  he  was  profoundly  astonished,  probably 
a  little  hurt;  but  he  was  thinking  about  what  she 
had  said  as  he  had  never  thought  about  any  remarks 
of  hers  before.  His  silence  frightened  her  a  little; 
suddenly  what  she  had  said  sounded  hard  and  un- 
loving, as  if  she  did  not  appreciate  the  great  fact 
that  he  had  come  home,  that  he  was  safe.  She  put 
out  her  hand  again  and  touched  his  arm. 

"  Roger  — "  she  began,  but  he  interrupted  her. 

"  How  would  it  be  if  I  had  plenty  of  money? 
Would  you  still  want  to  be  in  business?  Would  you 
still  feel  the  way  you  just  said " 

"  If  we  were  rich  it  would  be  absurd  for  me  to  be 
in  business,  of  course.  But  I  can  see  that  there  are 
things  I  should  like  to  do.  It's  going  to  be  a  great 
world  for  women,  Roger.  If  I  had  leisure  and  money 
I  should  want  to  take  part  in  the  life  of  the  city  and 
the  nation,  not  just  the  society  life,  but  the  big  life 

217 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


that  is  made  up  of  better  laws,  better  education,  bet- 
ter institutions.  I  know  I  sound  vague,  but  I've  only 
just  begun  to  think  about  it.  Don't  you  see,  what 
I  mean  is  that  all  that  old  life  of  wasting  money  and 
wasting  time  on  things  that  don't  really  help  in  a 
crisis  is  past  for  a  woman  when  she  begins  to  think. 
Idleness  and  extravagance  —  the  fun  is  gone  out  of 
them,  Roger.  Because  there's  something  else  that 
is  so  much  more  fun.  .  .  .  Do  you  see  at  all  what  I 
mean,  dear?  " 

'*  Um-m  —  in  a  way,"  he  muttered,  and  then 
another  long  silence. 

"  He  isn't  sure  whether  he  likes  me  this  way,"  she 
thought.  And  she  felt  a  little  sad,  as  if  she  were 
leaving  him  behind.  She  had  a  taste  in  that  instant 
of  the  inherent  loneliness  of  souls.  But  she  knew 
from  his  face  he,  too,  was  wrestling  with  new  problems, 
a  new  point  of  view.  She  had  an  impulse,  which 
was  purely  womanly,  to  cry  out  to  him :  "  Forget 
what  I've  said,  and  let's  be  happy.  If  it  makes  you 
love  me  more  to  go  on  in  the  old  way,  let's  go  on 
that  way ! "  But  something  deeper  than  sex  in- 

218 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


stinct  even,  or  if  not  deeper,  clearer-eyed  —  said  to 
her :  "  The  time  has  come  to  look  at  your  mutual 
life  from  the  standpoint  of  two  rational  human  be- 
ings, not  from  the  standpoint  of  sex  privilege  or  sex 
rights.  You're  talking  now,  shoulder  to  shoulder, 
eye  to  eye  —  don't  spoil  it  by  concessions  to  some- 
thing that  is  outworn,  finished  with.  .  .  ." 

"  I  don't  know  what's  going  to  become  of  the 
homes,  if  all  the  women  in  the  world  take  your  atti- 
tude, Anne !  "  he  said  after  awhile. 

"  I  don't  think  anything  will  ever  happen  to 
homes,  because  I  believe  the  average  woman  loves 
home  better  than  the  average  man  does.  I  don't  be- 
lieve she's  ever  going  to  let  home  slip  out  of  her  hands. 
But  maybe  she's  going  to  change  the  ideal  of 
home.  .  .  ." 

She  came  to  a  pause,  thinking  this  over.  And 
after  giving  her  a  moment  or  two  he  demanded  what 
was  her  ideal  of  a  home. 

"  I  think  it's  something  that  two  human  beings, 
working  together,  have  made,"  she  replied,  slowly. 
"  Two  human  beings  working  in  equality  and  under- 

219 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


standing.  Something  they've  made  for  their  future 
and  the  future  of  their  children  and  the  future  of 
the  world.  Something  they're  equally  responsible 
for  and  love  equally.  It's  not  just  a  place  that  a 
man  comes  home  at  night  to,  where  he  can  eat  and 
sleep  comfortably.  Not  just  a  place  that  costs 
him  more  than  he  can  rightly  afford,  out  of  which 
he  gets  just  a  certain  bodily  comfort.  And  not 
just  a  place  where  a  woman  goes  round  and  round  in 
a  circle  of  daily  tasks,  or  where  she  idles  or  is  busy  in 
a  futile  kind  of  way.  ...  I  know  I  sound  like 
propaganda  of  some  kind,  but  I'm  trying  to  think 
out  this  thing  and  get  at  what  has  been  wrong  with 
it  in  most  cases.  .  .  .  After  all,  it  comes  down  to 

the  woman.     Life  is  harder  for  a  woman  who  wants 

i 
to  be  an  all-round  human  being,  than  it  is  for  a 

man.  Life  puts  a  choice  up  to  her  —  and  either  way 
she  loses  out.  If  she  chooses  the  great  part  —  to  be 
a  wife  and  mother  —  life  makes  the  part  so  absorb- 
ing that,  unless  she's  a  tremendous  woman,  she  can't 
be  anything  else.  And  if  she  is  nothing  but  a  wife 
and  mother  —  well,  no  one  can  blame  a  man  for  not 

220 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


finding  her  one  function  very  interesting!  And 
when  her  children  grow  up  and  no  longer  need  her, 
then  she  loses  her  principal  job.  Unless  she  has 
kept  herself  in  contact  with  the  world  she  is  just  a 
sort  of  pensioner.  I  can't  see  but  what  she  loses  out 
in  a  certain  way,  except  for  the  consolation  of  know- 
ing that  she's  done  her  duty.  .  .  .  And  if  she 
chooses  a  career  instead  —  then  she  loses,  too. 
She  loses  even  more  by  this  choice  than  by  the 
other.  .  .  ." 

Roger  gave  a  short  laugh.  "  You're  making 
women  out  to  be  the  abused  half  of  humanity !  " 

"  No,  no !  They're  not  abused  —  maybe  they're 
blessed!  Because,  after  all,  once  their  complica- 
tions are  solved,  they're  going  to  get  more  sheer 
wonder  out  of  life  than  any  man !  Why,  think  how 
glorious  it  would  be  to  say,  when  life  offered  you  a 
choice  of  two  things :  *  I'll  take  both ! '  And  why 
shouldn't  one  take  both?  Why  can't  a  woman  — 
material  circumstances  being  favorable  —  be  a  child- 
bearer  and  home-founder  and  have  a  career,  too?  I 
believe  it's  going  to  be  a  matter  of  cooperation  be- 

221 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


tween  men  and  women,  a  matter  of  women's  growing 
intelligent  enough  to  refuse  to  lose  out,  intelligent 
enough  to  make  use  of  the  world's  resources,  in- 
telligent enough  to  hoard  time  like  a  miser !  " 

Anne  stopped  with  a  laugh,  out  of  breath. 
"  Aren't  I  preaching,  though !  " 

"  It  all  comes  down  to  this :  you  think  you'll  find 
life  more  exciting  if  you  are  working  outside  your 
home?" 

Anne  sighed.  "  If  you  want  to  put  it  that  way 
• —  yes !  Are  yoa  going  to  mind,  very  much, 
Roger?  " 

"  I  don't  know  that  I  should  mind  so  very  much, 
if  I  could  see  any  really  good  reason  for  it  —  a  rea- 
son that  didn't  have  anything  to  do  with  all  this  nevr 
feminism.  Come  on,  now,  do  you  know  of  one?  " 

Anne  leaned  forward  in  her  chair,  her  chin  in  her 
hands.  The  little  garden,  hemmed  in  by  old  brick 
houses,  in  which  here  and  there  a  light  was  begin- 
ning to  shine  out,  was  very  quiet.  The  evening  sky 
was  turning  a  deep  and  tranquil  blue  above  them. 

"  Do  you  remember  once  telling  me  a  long  time 
222 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


ago,  Roger,  that  you  considered  I  had  fallen  down 
on  my  job  as  a  wife?  " 

He  moved  with  a  mixture  of  uneasiness  and  impa- 
tience. "  I  don't  know  as  I  ever  said  that,  Anne !  " 

But  she  knew  that  he  probably  remembered  the 
words  and  the  occasion  as  well  as  she  did,  and  she 
went  on :  "  That  was  what  you  said,  and  I  think 
you  meant  it.  I  had  fallen  down,  and  I  know  it, 
now.  At  the  time  I  was  merely  angry,  but  since 
then,  in  the  past  year,  I've  thought  about  it.  I've 
figured  out  why  you  felt  that  way.  I  wasn't  hold- 
ing up  my  end  of  the  job.  Since  I've  had  a  cer- 
tain amount  of  experience  I've  come  to  the  conclu- 
sion that  you  were  doing  your  part  all  right.  I 
know,  now,  how  hard  you  were  working.  But,  you 
see,  dear,  you  started  in  on  the  assumption  that  I 
was  a  more  or  less  ornamental  part  of  your  life,  and 
then  you  were  not  very  logical  when  I  accepted  the 
role.  The  one  concrete  thing  that  started  us  on  the 
discussion  that  day  when  you  said  I  had  fallen  down 
was  the  fact  that  you  hadn't  been  able  to  save  enough 
money  to  make  an  investment  that  would  help  your 

223 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


future.  At  the  time,  I  thought  you  were  unjust 
to  me;  but  since  then  I've  learned  to  appreciate  the 
value  of  a  margin.  That's  one  reason  I  want  to  go 
on  with  what  I've  begun.  We  can  live,  I  know,  as 
we  are  if  I  don't  earn  a  cent,  but  we'll  be  able  to  save 
only  a  little,  and  you'll  have  to  work  just  as  hard  as 
you  did  before.  It  will  mean  that  if  a  chance  should 
come  along  for  you  to  go  into  business  for  yourself 
or  to  make  a  good  investment,  you  won't  be  able  to 
make  the  best  of  it.  You  will  be  tied  up  just  as 
you  were  before.  You'll  be  going  round  and  round 
in  the  squirrel  cage  just  the  same  as  you  have  done 
since  we  were  married.  Since  I've  seen  more  of  men 
in  business  I've  realized  how  handicapped  they  are 
when  it's  all  going  out  and  nothing  staying  in  the 
bank,  and  I  don't  want  it  to  be  that  way  with  you. 
And  so  —  there's  my  reason  that  has  nothing  to  do 
with  the  new  feminism !  As  I'm  well  and  strong  and 
making  a  home  doesn't  use  up  half  my  time  and 
strength,  why  shouldn't  I  be  in  business?  " 

"  But  you'll  tire  yourself  out !     Summer  is  com- 
224 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


ing  on  —  you  don't  know  what  it  is  to  work  through 
the  hot  weather  in  New  York !  " 

"Oh,  don't  I!"  she  smiled.  "Roger,  honestly 
now,  have  you  ever  known  me  to  look  so  well  as  I  do 
now?" 

He  admitted  that  she  did  appear  unusually  fit,  ad- 
mitted it  absent-mindedly,  and  then  another  long 
silence  ensued.  The  twilight  deepened  and  Anne  rose 
with  a  shiver.  "  You  must  come  in,  or  you'll  get 
cold,"  feeling  all  at  once  a  drop  in  her  spirits. 
After  all,  did  he  understand  what  she  had  been  try- 
ing to  get  at  —  did  she  herself  ? 

But  as  she  turned  away  he  put  out  a  hand  and 

t 
caught  hers.     "  Anne,  you're  all  right!  "     That  was 

all  he  said,  but  she  knew  he  meant  a  great  deal  more. 
He  held  her  hand  close  against  him  and  she  stood 
looking  down  at  him  in  silence.  It  seemed  to  her  that 
from  a  long  distance  apart  they  had  come  closer  to- 
gether than  they  had  ever  been  in  their  life.  There 
was  something  rather  grave,  but  altogether  sweet, 
about  this  silence.  She  did  not  want  to  have  it 

225 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


broken  and  she  stood  still,  her  free  hand  lightly  strok- 
ing his  hair. 

"  You've  changed  a  good  deal  in  the  last  year, 
Anne,  but  you  —  but  you're  all  right !  " 

"  The  whole  world  has  changed  a  good  deal, 
Roger." 

"  Yes,  it's  the  beginning  of  a  lot  of  new  thoughts." 

"  And  you  and  I  —  it's  as  if  we  were  beginning 
over  again.  We've  been  shaken  out  of  the  old  rut, 
both  of  us,  and  we're  making  a  new,  fresh  start. 
Let's  shake  off  the  old  ideas  and  start  right !  " 

He  stood  up  with  a  laugh.  "  You  mean,  let's  start 
your  way !  "  But  now  he  held  her  hand  pressed  close 
between  his.  They  might  have  been  lovers  standing 
there  in  the  twilight. 

"  All  right,  we'll  try  your  way,  Anne  —  but  I'm 
only  doing  it  because  you're  such  a  darned  good 
sport,  dear  old  girl !  " 

She  knew  that  as  long  as  she  lived  she  would  never 
hear  anything  said  about  herself  that  would  make 
her  so  happy. 


226 


CHAPTER  XIII 

WHEN  Anne  had  said  that  life  is  a  com- 
plicated thing  for  the  woman  who 
chooses  both  a  home  and  a  business 
occupation  she  did  not  know  to  the  full  how  com- 
plicated it  could  be.  There  were  a  few  weeks  before 
Roger  himself  came  back  to  the  office  and  took  up 
his  former  work.  And  in  these  weeks  Anne,  going 
on  with  her  job,  came  to  appreciate  what  it  must 
mean  to  a  man  to  have  a  discontented  wife  at  home. 
Not  that  Roger  exactly  acted  the  role  of  a  discon- 
tented wife,  but  he  chafed  visibly  under  the  reversal 
of  their  positions. 

"  If  you're  going  to  leave  me  every  day,"  he  would 
say,  half  laughingly,  half  grimly,  "  I  wish  you'd 
tell  that  colored  Juno  not  to  sing.  And  tell  her  not 
to  give  me  carrots  again  for  my  lunch." 

"  Poor  dear !  I  told  her  and  she  forgot.  I'll  write 
it  down." 

227 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


"  It  seems  to  me  that  if  you  leave  the  office  at  five 
you  ought  to  get  home  at  half-past." 

"  But,  Roger,  I  have  to  do  the  marketing  on  the 
way  home." 

"  Oh,  all  right !  Only  it  seems  an  infernal  long 
day,  somehow." 

And  he  wondered  why  she  laughed,  and  kissed  the 
top  of  his  head  with  a  cryptic  smile.  She  was  think- 
ing of  the  women  who  saved  up  all  their  troubles  to 
pour  out  upon  their  husbands  when  they  came  home 
at  night. 

It  seemed  to  her  then  that  Roger  would  be  all  right 
once  he  himself  was  at  work  again. 

But  one  day,  when  Roger  had  been  back  at  his 
post  in  the  estimating  department  for  a  month,  the 
boss  sent  for  her  to  come  into  his  private  office.  He 
said  he  wanted  to  have  a  frank  talk  with  her  about 
Roger. 

"  I've  been  watching  Roger  since  he  came  back," 
he  said,  "  and  it  strikes  me  he  isn't  quite  contented. 
I've  got  a  theory  about  the  boys  who  have  been  in 
the  army  that  they'll  either  take  up  their  old  jobs 

228 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


and  make  a  great  deal  better  at  them  than  before  they 
went  away,  or  else  they'll  find  the  j  ob  doesn't  fit  them 
at  all  when  they  come  back.  Which  way  do  you 
think  it  is  going  to  be  with  Roger  ?  " 

"  I  think  it's  a  little  early  to  say,  yet,"  she  coun- 
tered. "But  I  have  a  theory  myself.  I  think  that 
Roger's  military  training  and  the  responsibility  he 
took,  the  initiative  he  had  to  develop,  have  made  it 
rather  hard  for  him  to  come  back  to  just  figures. 
He  has  lived  out  of  doors,  he's  had  men  under  him, 
he's  had  to  plan  and  think  for  himself  and  for  them. 
Perhaps,  now,  he " 

"Perhaps  now  he's  outgrown  his  job,"  Leavitt 
said  as  she  hesitated.  "  That's  my  theory  of  the 
situation,  too.  On  the  strength  of  that  theory  I've 
made  a  tentative  plan,  and  I  thought  I'd  ask  you 
what  you  thought  of  it  before  I  submitted  it  to 
Roger.  This  line  you're  working  on  has  grown  sur- 
prisingly, and  I  believe  it  could  expand  even  more  if 
we  made  a  regular  department  out  of  it  —  a  sort 
of  reconstruction  department.  My  idea  is  to  give 
that  department  to  Roger  and  you,  let  you  two  shape 

229 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


it  up  and  make  the  biggest  thing  you  can  out  of  it 
just  now  while  other  private  construction  work  is 
light.  What  do  you  think  of  that  idea  ?  " 

A  wave  of  color  swept  over  her  face  from  astonish- 
ment and  pleasure.  But  then  a  second  thought  came 
to  her.  "  Would  it  be  better  for  Roger  to  have  the 
department  alone?  I  mean,  is  there  work  enough 
for  two?  Because  if  there  isn't  I'd  rather  Roger 
had  it." 

Leavitt  smiled  at  her  gravely  and  understand- 
ingly.  "  It's  nice  of  you  to  say  that,  but  I  don't 
know  that  I  would  have  suggested  it  if  I  hadn't  be- 
lieved there  is  room  for  two  in  that  line.  You  are 
in  a  way  the  pioneer  of  the  idea  and  you  are  working 
it  up  well.  I  believe  a  clever  woman  who  really  be- 
lieves in  what  she  has  to  sell  has  a  gift  of  persuasion 
that  most  men  lack.  Also  you're  developing  a  nose 
for  neighborhoods  and  their  possibilities.  My 
theory  is  that  Roger's  expert  knowledge,  supple- 
mented by  your  natural  gifts,  ought  to  make  a  fine 
working  combination.  Anyway,  I'm  strong  for  try- 

230 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


ing  it  out.  But  don't  say  anything  to  Roger,  please, 
until  I've  seen  him." 

Anne  was  immensely  elated.  She  had  an  inter- 
view with  the  owner  of  a  house  she  wanted  to  re- 
build and  she  got  home  half  an  hour  later  than 
Roger.  She  found  him  waiting  for  her,  and  knew 
the  instant  she  looked  at  him  —  as  a  wife  always 
knows!  —  that  something  had  happened  that  had 
awakened  his  interest. 

"  Leavitt  has  put  up  a  proposition  to  me,"  he  be- 
gan at  once,  "  that  sounds  interesting.  It  is  to  make 
your  old-houses  scheme  into  a  regular  department 
and  work  it  up  for  all  there  is  in  it." 

"  Oh ! "  ehe  said  brightly,  "  that  does  sound  in- 
teresting ! "  Evidently  the  diplomatic  boss  had  not 
told  Roger  that  he  had  already  talked  with  his  wife. 
"  What  is  his  plan?  " 

She  turned  around,  unpinning  her  hat,  and  looked 
at  him,  while  something  within  her  seemed  to  hold  its 
breath.  For  she  knew  that  they  had  come  down  to 
a  test.  What  attitude  was  Roger  going  to  take 
toward  this  suggested  combination?  He  had  never 

231 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


said  very  much  about  what  she  was  doing;  his  atti- 
tude was  one  of  suspended  judgment.  But  she  knew 
that  now  she  was  half-afraid  of  his  next  words.  For 
if  he  was  going  to  prove  himself  small  or  ungener- 
ous toward  her,  now  was  the  time.  She  stood  there 
very  quiet,  watching  every  shade  of  expression  in  his 
face.  And  then,  as  if  he  caught  from  her  silence, 
or  from  her  face  some  hint  of  her  suspense,  he  sud- 
denly threw  an  arm  around  her  and  gare  her  a 
tremendous  embrace. 

"  The  boss  certainly  handed  it  to  you,  Anne ! "  he 
cried.  "  I  was  darned  proud  of  you." 

"  Oh,  Roger!  "  she  caught  her  breath.  "  Really? 
Really?" 

"  Yes,  I  was  —  and  I  an !  He  wants  you  and  me 
to  take  that  line  and  work  it  up  together.  Get 
that?  Together!" 

"  Roger !     Would  you  like  that?  " 

"  Sure !  "  He  spoke  with  the  large  coolness  of  the 
male  who  conceals  his  enthusiasms.  "  In  some  ways 
it's  the  best  chance  I  ever  had  to  use  whatever  punch 
there  is  in  me.  It  will  get  me  away  from  routine 

232 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


work  and  let  me  use  some  of  my  own  ideas.  Just 
now,  while  I'm  waiting  for  reassignment,  nothing 
could  suit  me  better.  To-morrow  we'd  better  move 
into  that  small  room  off  the  telephone  room,  and  I'll 
go  over  your  files.  .  .  ." 

Moving  around  the  room  he  was  off  now  on  a  tide 
of  plans.  Anne  looked  at  herself  in  the  mirror  over 
the  mantel  and  smiled.  He  had  said  he  was  proud  of 
her.  Nothing  was  as  big  as  that  fact.  It  didn't  mat- 
ter if  already  in  his  thoughts  he  was  running  the  new 
department.  She  didn't  mind,  not  even  if  he  began 
to  give  her  orders  from  the  start.  Because  she 
wanted  him  to  succeed  more  than  she  wanted  to  suc- 
ceed herself.  And  he  had  said  he  was  proud  of  her ! 
Besides  — 

"  I  think  I  can  keep  up  with  him,"  she  smiled  at 
herself  in  the  mirror. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

SUMMER  had  passed,  New  York  had  had  its  two 
wild  peace  celebrations  and  Thanksgiving  was 
over  when  Anne  came  home  alone  one  after- 
noon and  let  herself  into  their  apartment.     She  had 
had  an  unusually  busy  day,  she  was  tired  and  a  trifle 
forlorn.     Julia  made  her   tea  and   lighted   a   com- 
panionable little  fire  in  the  grate. 

As  Anne  drank  her  tea  she  tried  to  put  out  of  her 
mind  the  thought  of  business  and  the  day's  activities. 
She  had  had  the  busiest  summer  possible,  and,  she 
told  herself,  the  happiest.  She  and  Roger  had 
worked  tremendously  hard,  now  and  then  snatching 
a  week-end  for  play ;  but  their  days  had  been  packed 
with  work  that  more  and  more  absorbed  them  both. 
She  had  scarcely  realized  how  much  happiness  she 
had  got  out  of  their  work  together  until  this  moment 
when  she  sat  there  in  the  quietness  of  the  room  and 

234 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


knew  that  they  had  come  to  the  end  of  one  chapter 
and  were  at  the  beginning  of  another.  For  Roger 
had  been  sent  for  to  come  to  Washington.  What 
that  summons  meant  she  did  not  know.  Roger  had 
been  quite  excited  over  it  and  rather  mysterious,  but 
he  admitted  that  in  all  probability  he  was  to  be  sent 
over  to  France. 

She  had  seen  him  off  smilingly,  although  she  knew 
that  she  should  miss  him,  if  he  went  to  France,  more 
now  than  before.  For  they  had  been  so  close  to 
each  other  during  this  past  summer.  Never  in  their 
married  life  had  they  known  such  companionship, 
never  before  had  they  had  so  deep  an  understanding 
of  each  other.  It  was  as  if  for  the  first  time  they 
had  begun  to  see  the  possibilities  of  marriage  that 
sprang  from  comradeship,  mutual  respect  and  mu- 
tual interests.  The  long  talks  they  had  had  in  the 
evenings  over  some  new  project  in  hand,  the  action 
and  reaction  of  their  two  minds  bent  to  one  task,  had 
made  the  days  full  of  a  genuine  zest.  Of  course,  she 
should  go  on,  in  case  Roger  went  away,  but  she  should 
go  on  rather  limpingly.  That  morning  she  had  had 

235 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


a  letter  from  Roger,  from  the  tone  of  which  she  knew 
he  was  as  happy  as  a  boy. 

"  It's  a  man's  world,"  she  said  to  herself  rather 
sadly.  "  The  big  things  to  do  are  theirs.  .  .  ." 

She  went  on  thinking,  planning  her  life  for  the  next 
six  months.  If  Roger  went  away,  perhaps  she  might 
invite  Ricky  to  come  and  stay  with  her.  She  had 
grown  to  like  and  respect  Ricky  and  she  believed  it  was 
mutual.  Then,  perhaps,  during  the  winter  she 
might  take  a  business  course.  Yes,  she  could  keep 
busy  enough;  and  there  was  nothing  she  was  afraid 
of,  now. 

She  had  reached  this  point  when  Julia  came  in  with 
a  telegram.  She  tore  it  open  and  read : 

"  Meet  eight  o'clock  train  to-night,  Pennsylvania  station.    Big 
news.    ROGER." 

It  must  be  big  news  if  he  couldn't  wait  to  get  home 
with  it!  She  felt  her  certainty  confirmed:  Roger 
was  going  to  France.  Big  news  could  mean  nothing 
else. 

As  he  came  up  the  long  stairs  from  the  train  plat- 
form two  hours  later,  she  saw  that  his  face  was 

236 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


radiant,  and  her  heart  sank,  even  as  she  told  herself 
that  she  was  a  beast  to  grudge  him  his  happiness. 
As  he  found  her  among  the  crowd  he  pressed  her  arm 
against  his  side,  but  all  he  said  was :  "  Glad  you  wore 
that  hat.  Nice  hat !  Jove,  but  I'm  hungry !  " 

They  were  crossing  the  great  rotunda  when  she 
could  not  stand  it  to  wait  another  minute.  "  Roger, 
you'd  better  tell  me  now,"  she  said. 

He  bent  a  little  to  look  under  her  hat.  "  Anne, 
how  would  you  like  to  go  to  France ! " 

She  stopped  short  regardless  of  the  general  traf- 
fic, her  eyes  opening  wide.  "  What  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  Just  this :  the  Government  is  going  to  do  a  cer- 
tain amount  of  reconstruction  work  in  France,  and 
they've  asked  a  few  of  the  big  contractors  to  furnish 
picked  men  to  help  out.  Of  course  Leavitt  sug- 
gested me.  I  was  in  line  for  that  job  anyway,  and 
there  wasn't  any  question  of  my  getting  the  assign- 
ment. But  I  wanted  you  to  have  a  chance  at  the  big 
work  over  there,  too.  And  so  Leavitt  and  I  put  our 
heads  together,  and  we've  got  you  on  the  American 
Committee.  You  are  to  sail  as  soon  as  your  pass- 

237 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


port  comes  through.  What  do  you  think  of  that? 
Pretty  good,  eh?  " 

Anne  felt  smitten  dumb  from  sheer  astonishment. 
She  stood  staring  at  Roger,  a  star-like  rapture  in 
her  eyes. 

"  If  you  look  like  that  everybody  will  think  I've 
just  asked  you  to  marry  me,"  he  chuckled. 

"  It  can't  be  true !  "  she  finally  whispered. 

"  Well,  it  is !  Come  on,  don't  block  the  traffic. 
Of  course,  we  don't  go  over  on  the  same  boat,  but 
we'll  both  get  there  about  the  same  time,  and  we'll 
manage  a  few  little  old  good  times  in  between  bouts 
of  work.  You'll  be  crazy  about  the  Committee's 
program,  Anne.  You'll  just  eat  it  up.  And  I'll  bet 
you  can  give  'em  some  pointers,  too.  You  ought  to 
have  heard  me  telling  'em  about  what  you've  done. 
The  boss  wrote  an  all-right  letter,  too." 

"  Oh,  Roger,  don't  say  anything  more,"  she  sighed, 
"  until  I  get  it  through  my  head  that  it's  true !  I 
thought  I  was  going  to  be  left  at  home  —  I  was  go- 
ing to  take  a  business  course,  and  have  Ricky  to  live 


HIS  WIFE'S  JOB 


with  me  —  and  now,  I'm  going  to  France !  You're 
sure  you're  not  mistaken,  Roger?  " 

He  tucked  her  hand  under  his  arm  as  they  moved 
out  of  the  station.  "  Mistaken  ?  I  should  say  not ! 
Do  you  think  I  want  to  go  to  France  and  leave  my 
partner  at  home?  " 

His  partner!  She  felt,  as  she  walked  along  be- 
side him,  as  if  they  had  discovered  the  secret  rhythm 
of  the  world,  and  were  moving  joyously  in  touch  with 

it. 

(i) 


THE    END 


,.l£SpUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 


A     000  241  459     7 


University  of  California 
,  REGIONAL  L|BRARY  FACILITY 

Hilgard  Avenue,  Los  Angeles,  CA  90024-1388 
Return  this  material  to  the  library 
from  which  it  was  borrowed. 


NGN-RFNFWBLE 

MAR  1  2  1|398 

ILU/R0M 
DUE  2  m  FROM  0/fIE  RECEIVED 

UCLA  URUILL 


